Instead, she was whisked away against her better wishes and escorted to their safe point. Throughout the entire car journey, Arya found herself begging to go back, because above everything else, she didn’t want her last memory of the man she loved to be tainted by that touch of blood on his lips as he choked for air. 

In the car, Arya was with Sansa and Bran, her brother in Sandor’s arms as they were told to get to a secure location. She found out later that the reason Sandor was carrying Bran was because once the shots were fired, they didn’t have time to get the chair in the car. They would have to get Bran a new one, as they weren’t sure if the chair would have made it through the chaos of the events. 

It was hard for Arya to concentrate when so many different reports were going around. They were whisked from one place to another, trying to get as much information out of each of them on the attack. Arya found it hard to explain what went wrong. All she remembered was the joy that washed away after she saw Robb get knocked away, but Gendry went down. She was overcome that finding the words to explain what went wrong were so far from who she was in that moment. 

Arya knew she was a pistol - she understood that she was reckless, blazing through her life and shooting through other’s lives like nothing. But in a moment of pure rage, hatred, and grief, she found Jon, who had managed to get the suspect into an interrogation room. When their eyes met, it was as if Jon knew more than Arya. she hadn’t even known how she got there, just that she found them. 

She began to storm past her brother when he caught her arm and dragged her away like it was nothing. Arya fought against him, tearing his hands from her every time he put them back ont.

“Get your hands off of me!” she snarled, wrenching herself away, trying to leap out of his grip until he held onto her by her waist, picking her up and dragging her off. 

“Arya you can’t go in there!” Jon said just as Arya brought an elbow down into his shoulder. He crumbled, letting her go for just a moment, not even enough to let her escape. She hated that he could get her to stay. 

“I deserve to pummel that asshole within an inch of his life!” she roared, trying to pull away. The door was so fucking close, she could almost touch it, but sanity kept her in place. It was her brother’s doing, but it knocked her. “Please Jon, please let me in,” she whimpered, turning back to him. 

“I can’t do that, you know I can’t,” he said, and Arya beat her fists against his chest. It was only a few fists later that her hands hit with less impact, and her heart was lurching into her throat. 

“Arya,” Jon whispered to her, her name a comfort when it came from his lips. 

“My boyfriend and love of my life just got shot. I don’t know if he’d gonna live or not. So please, let me be mad,” she asked in a huff. Jon held her by the bicep, lowering them down to the ground until they completely on the floor. Arya watched as Jon began taking deep breaths, and her having the follow suit. When she was calm, she felt herself become weak, as though her pain was dwindled by her rage. But she didn’t want it to, as when the pain rose, her eyes could spring a leak at any moment and she’d be bawling her eyes out for hours. 

“Let’s go to the hospital.” The words made Arya look up at him. He gave a soft nod of confirmation that he was serious. He’d take her there, not keep her away like everyone else would have. 

Part of her wanted to argue, but the way Jon looked at her, pleaded with her to move an inch for him was enough to get her to nod. From there, it was just following Jon until she felt like she wasn’t going to cry. She could hold it in as long as she followed Jon. That’s what she told herself anyway. 

By the time they got there, Arya found her mother and father were talking with a doctor. Arya and Jon ran to them - well, more so, Arya ran to them, Jon was just keeping up. Catelyn draped her arm over Arya’s shoulder, holding her close and kissing her forehead. 

“The prince is just fine. A few scraps and bruises, but nothing serious,” the doctor explained, as though this would have been his second or third time doing so, it was just more family coming to explain to. 

“And the bodyguard?” Arya questioned. The doctor then looked at her, sorrowful eyes that wouldn’t let her heart not break. With a sigh, the doctor pointed to two parts of his torso; one finger pressed to his side, along where his kidneys were, the other pointed at his heart. 

“He was hit three times. Two hit his side, but the one that made impact with his chest was the one that cause the most damage. We’d be surprised if he felt the two to the side without how brutally the third went through him.” 

“He was wearing a vest wasn’t he?” She’d kill him if he hadn’t - stupid, reckless bullheaded asshole. 

“If he hadn’t worn the vest, the bullet at his chest would have gone straight through him instead of how it landed. The possibility that it ripped through his heart and lungs would have been greater than the position of the bullets. He’s still in surgery, so we won’t know his condition for some time, we suggest waiting where you’re comfortable.” 

With that, the doctor gave one final nod, taking the family to Robb who was secluded amongst other patients. From the corner of Arya’s eye, she saw the other patients all gossiping and wondering what happened until the news interrupted programs on the waiting room tvs. Every second of her life was on display for the world’s consumption, and part of Arya felt like shattering. 

“I have to call Tailya. Has anyone called her yet?” Arya suddenly realised, looking around. Jon looked at her, giving her a soft shrug. 

“Not that I know of,” Jon said. 

“I should call her,” Arya said, hands roaming over her form to try and find her phone. Was it even in her pockets or did she have a purse that she completely forgot about. Jon suddenly took Arya’s wrist, taking her to sit amongst the others in the waiting room, sitting her down and kneeling in front of her. 

“Arya, maybe I should. Why don’t I get dad so he can -” 

“Can you get mum?” she interrupted. Jon stood, hand to her cheek. 

“Yeah. Of course,” he said, phone pressed to his ear, leaning down and kissing her crown. “Yes, am I speaking with Tailya Waters? It’s Jon Snow from the palace. I’m sorry I have some…” Jon left before Arya could catch more of his words. Arya’s heart broke for Tailya. It wasn’t like she could have foreseen this happening, or even if she did, she hated that Tailya had to get that call. Part of her wished she’d made the call, but she knew if she’d talked to his mother, she could have very well come apart at the seams. 

With Jon gone and her mother at her side, Arya held onto her hand, keeping herself calm. Catelyn was patient until she was beckoned away. The pair didn’t wish to part, but Arya knew her mother’s responsibility to the public and said it was fine. Once she was alone again, Arya was left with her thoughts - the ones that festered and fed into the notion that she was bound to loneliness for the rest of her life. 

It took an hour before she saw Gendry. He was wheeled out and into a seperate room. Arya rushed to the doctor that she had seen before, taking his arm and his attention in one moment. 

“How he is?” Arya asked, not caring how ridiculous or desperate she looked. She just needed to know more than seeing the man she loved lying in a bed. She hadn’t even gotten a proper look at him, she just knew it was him. The doctor took a moment, looking over to Gendry’s room before he sighed, combing back his hair 

“He’s stable for now. There was a lot of damage, but we think he’s been through the worst of it,” he said, though he extended a hand to her shoulder, almost in warning, not to give hope a chance of latching in her chest, “we’ll need to monitor him for the next few days.” Arya gave a nod before she looked at the door.  

She wanted to look in, but couldn’t bring herself to. Everything in her told her not to look - she wasn’t the same Arya she thought she was when it came to Gendry. Every day she was the tough, unbeatable woman that the world rallied behind for being an outrageous royal princess. But with him, all she was, was a woman that loved a man, simply in love. And all she could do was shatter when he was broken.

“I don’t understand how a goddamn bullet got through a bulletproof vest,” Arya said, pacing across the length of Gendry’s door. Jon stood close by, her parents and Robb having left an hour before. 

“It was a combat weapon. They’re designed to do the most impact, including going through bulletproof vests. Like the doctor said, if he hadn’t worn that, it would have torn up his insides and we’d be having a different conversation,” 

“I’m Tailya Waters, I’m just trying to -” 

“Tailya! Over here!” Arya called. Tailya perked when seeing her, rushing over and seeing that the door was right behind her. Upon the two seeing each other, Jon gave a simple nod and left the pair. 

“I want to see him,” Tailya asked. Arya hurried a nod, showing her the door. As Tailya moved past her, Arya turned - maybe it was the freedom of an open door that had her scared - that she’d jump inside and never leave. “Sweetheart?” she said before Arya looked up. With her hand extended, Tailya gave a tender smile. Arya took it and guided them both into the room. Upon seeing him, Tailya whimpered, gripping harder into Arya’s shaking hand. 

As always, Arya remained strong, but had to admit, once seeing Gendry hooked up to all those machines, she almost fell to the ground. Taking Tailya to Gendry’s bedside, his mother gripped tight to his hand as Arya went around to the other side, combing the hair out of his face, just to see him. Gendry didn’t seem like he was in pain, just an uncomfortable sleep. 

Why did it feel like her heart was breaking over everything. 

Suddenly a phone started to ring, making Tailya scramble for her phone in her bag.

“Shit, why now?” Tailya said with a sniffle in her voice. In a moment she was gone, leaving Arya alone with Gendry. He was defenseless, a man bound to his sleep, living through a pain that he never asked for. 

Arya couldn’t help it, she burst into tears, holding him with all her might. He didn’t touch her or budge as she held onto his sleeping form, and it only made her cry the harder. She didn’t care who saw her, or even if it was published in all the papers. She just wanted to hold him until he held her back. At this rate, however, there wasn’t a likely chance of that happening. As her tears dried up, Tailya coming back, Arya sat back down next to him, holding onto his hand as his mother held his other. 

Tailya explained that she had to leave the pub abruptly, which meant her regulars were phoning in to find out the news, so every time she got a call, Arya sat by her, holding her hand and making sure she was ok. It the least she could do without taking the calls herself. It wasn’t like Arya could say much to them either. 

On Arya’s end, she was called by Sansa every few hours. Even when she should have been asleep, Sansa phoned, checking up on both of them. Arya didn’t know exactly what happened between Gendry and Sansa in the short time they were paired together, but they became close enough that Sansa considered him a friend. It warmed Arya’s heart in the past - now it felt like it was breaking because Sansa may lose a friend she only just scarcely had. 

The next morning, once she had stretched out her back from the uncomfortable armchair she slept in, Arya found her phone, texting the group on Gendry’s condition and letting them know that she’d loved to be cheered up, in spite of the pain she was feeling.

By 7am, her family had conjured a smile from her. 

TO GROUP ‘The Ghost Fan Club (Jon fuck off)’ 

7:03am - Bran: wow, john mulaney foresaw the events of the day

7:05am - Rickon: bruh the tax payers paid for that :(((

7:05am - Rickon: that wheelchair is worth more than bran is

7:06am - Sansa: hes like 8th in line for the throne we can afford to lose him

7:07am - Bran: i am DISABLED

7:07am - Bran: and still i get fucking dragged 

7:10am - Jon: is it sad that my first thought was ‘you get dragged everywhere anyway’

7:10am - Bran: JONATHAN! 

7:11am - Jon: please don’t use my full name 

7:12am - Sansa: nice burn, but Jon you don’t have a name, you gave one to yourself cause you were lonely

7:13am - Jon: I thought we were making fun of Bran, not me

7:13am - Sansa: no one is safe 

Arya looked through her phone, laughing as she felt tears fill her eyes. It made it harder to see, but she didn’t care. It was the only thing keeping her happy when the man she loved remained in a bed with machines hooked up to him. It wasn’t what he deserved, but he had put his life in danger before. He worked hard to be good at what he did - he protected Robb, but at the cost of his life. It was the hardest thing she’d ever have to do - wait to see if he’d ever wake up. They weren’t sure, it wasn’t even clear if he’d ever fully recover. 

Over the course of a few days, Gendry was unhooked from machines, able to breathe on his own, it was just a waiting game until he woke up. The doctors were happy with his stitches, and could see if he woke up he’d have no complications. It was just the waiting that was killing Arya.

It had been nearly a week since Gendry had been admitted to the hospital. His mum found it hard to take herself away from work, and every time she visited, she’d end up crying and having to leave. Arya understood. Most days, she’d go into the bathroom to steal away her cries so no one would know. Everything was sacred in that room - all secrets she whispered to him were kept in that room like they had done in her bed so many countless times. 

In the meantime, the tv played, endless shows that meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. Arya flicked through her phone, going through some emails as a show began with ridiculous music. 

“It’s sunday so you all know what that means! It’s time for the North daily's which heartthRobb is it?”

Arya scoffed at the name, the music getting dramatic, and for a split second, Arya got interested. Picking up her phone, taking a video of the events that unfolded.

“Here we have a picture of Robb or Richard at yet another event from this week. So Shyen, our chosen audience member, you know the rules.” 

“I can’t believe this is a real fucking show,” Arya whispered, her hands shaking as she laughed. 

“Tell us which heartthrobb it is, and you'll win this weeks prize of a $1000 gift voucher to leading supermarket Winter's Harvest.” 

On the screen flashed a picture that Arya had to legitimately question whether or not it was her brother or not. It could have been Robb or Richard, as they both decided to sport that stupid grey streak in their hair. Arya contemplated, almost guessing but faltered at the last second. 

“Robb. I’d know his dumb head anywhere.” It was like the hum of a drum that echoed around the room. Arya shot her attention from the screen to the sleeping man beside her, but instead of a calm man who had just been shot, she saw a gorgeous smile that looked weak but utterly happy. She dropped her phone in an instant. 

“Gendry!” she yelled, throwing herself over him, only pulling back once she heard him wince. “Don’t you ever do that again,” Arya warned him, watching as he chuckled. She couldn’t help herself - she surged forward, stealing the smile from his lips and making it hers upon her own. When he sighed against her, Arya cried, a breath of life she hadn’t thought she’d ever be able to have again. His tired arms came around her, pulling her onto the bed, both holding onto each other with every ounce of love they could spare in that moment. 

 *~*~*

 TO GROUP ‘The Ghost Fan Club (Jon fuck off)’ 

8:46pm - Bran: did you guys see how fucking fast she dropped her phone when she realised he woke up? That was iconic 

8:47pm - Ygritte: kinda romantic

8:48pm - Robb: ygritte? In this chat? 

8:49pm - Ygritte: this is jon typing 

8:50pm - Sansa: now that I believe 

8:51pm - Jon: Ygritte is in another country, you guys know this! 

8:52pm - Rickon: jon stop lying, we know you have ygritte’s phone! 

8:53pm - Jon: i hate you guys 

 *~*~*

 Out of all the things about being shot Gendry hated, it was mostly having to stay in his fucking bed. The hospital was small and made him feel like he was going to kick at the end and break the goddamn bed was sleeping in. The food sucked too but it was a hospital so he didn’t complain as much. 

What he did like, though, was the fact that Arya kissed him more than she ever had before. It was him that usually had to steal kisses when she wasn’t looking. Now, it was Arya that just interrupted him mid sentence to just kiss him. He didn’t know how much he worried her, but it must have hurt her. He hated that he had done it again, without even meaning to. He understood his role as a bodyguard, and it was always to put himself in between danger and his protectee. 

When he was home, he liked it a hell of a lot more than the hospital room. He liked the simplicity of his home, even if he had to keep packing for his new place. When Pod could, he came by and helped Gendry pack, but they weren’t exactly the most efficient pair around each other. 

Then, he got an unusual call. Gendry wasn’t sure what to make of it. He still had a ways to go for recovery, but the palace had called and asked for him to come in, he didn’t know what to make of it. They gave vague instructions, so he followed them the next day. 

With a tight breath, he walked into the palace. He felt like he wasn’t walking straight, and constantly felt the need to hold his side as though it were going to burst open a stitch or something. When he saw the stairs, true fear set in, because there was a very likely chance he’d pop something on the ascent. 

“Gendry!” A voice yelled, echoing around the foyer. Without even a second to think or brace himself, Arya had collided with him, arms around his neck and hanging onto him for dear life.  The pair struggled to stay on their feet, but Gendry didn’t care when he could hear the playful giggles of his girlfriend. For a moment, he was glad he could hold her amidst the pain, he just wanted to be bound to her from that day on. 

As she fell from his embrace, he held onto his side and she hissed as though she recognised her mistake once out his grip. Then, with her hand on his cheek, he felt like a weightless fool, bending down to her, their foreheads pressing to one another. “How are you feeling? Are you okay?” she asked with hope in her breath. It wasn’t like she saw him every day without fail, but she asked every day. 

“I’m doing fine. A little fragile but I expected that,” he explained, smiling to here. As she parted from him, she looked him over as though seeing him standing there was particularly an amazing feat. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her smile spreading wider. 

He gave a shrug - or something he should have called a shrug if one of his shoulders wasn’t as lame as it currently was. “Robb asked me to stop by.” 

It was like this family was tuned into the front door opening, because the next thing Gendry saw was Robb rushing down the stairs as casually as someone could rush down stairs. Maybe the family was unused to visitors that anyone coming inside was a treat. Or someone could have told them in some way. Gendry never told Arya about people stopping by, but he was usually told. Maybe it was through those channels. 

“Gendry! Gods, it’s good to see you.” Robb smiled before he embraced Gendry. It was a tender thing, as though he knew he couldn’t hold Gendry as tightly as someone who had saved his life should have been embraced. But Gendry didn’t mind. He loved the Starks, and although he wasn’t terribly big on affection - he didn’t mind it with them.

“You’re only saying that cause I didn’t die.” Gendry gauged Robb’s reaction, realising he wasn’t only speaking to Arya. To his surprise, Robb chuckled, slapping Gendry’s shoulder.  

“Saved my life, man. I can’t thank you enough,” he said, and Gendry had some doubts it would be the last time. 

“What’s this all about?” 

“I wanted to explain what happened, and why you were hurt,” Robb said, his tone getting serious, hands in his pockets as he explained. 

“Alright,” Gendry nodded, turning to Arya, taking her hand, kissing at her knuckles. “I’ll see you later, ok?” he asked. Arya stepped up, kissing Gendry briefly. 

“Love you, don’t let him kick you around,” he smiled, allowing Arya to steal yet another kiss from his lips. 

Gendry walked up the stairs slowly beside Robb, who explained what his schedule was, and that things were going to get more chaotic than he wants it to be, but he couldn’t stop it. Gendry had always been on the outside of their schedule, and knew that it took a lot out of everyone to be someone with the utmost authority. It was often for them to be more comfortable around other royals as it was a chance to breathe. 

There were only a select few people that the royals were comfortable being informal around. Gendry was luck to be one of them, with the entire family it seemed. Especially in such a short time. Their security and palace staff were an exception, but they were considered as much part of the Stark household as any other. 

 Once inside Robb’s office, Gendry took a seat, and groaned once his body had relaxed into it. He wasn’t sure how long the pain would last, but it didn’t seem to be giving up any time soon. As he got comfortable, Robb sat down next to Gendry instead of across from him like he anticipated. 

“So,” Robb started, giving himself a moment before he continued, as though the words were there, but somehow hard to find. “I can’t even begin to describe how thankful I am. I’m not sure to saying thank you to people who save my life,” he said, and Gendry shook his head, reaching over and gripping Robb’s shoulder. 

“It must be a very foreign feeling, I’m sure,” he said. 

“Dude, I wish you’d drop the formal shit for a second,” Robb scoffed. 

“Ok,” Gendry laughed, before he took his own breath - finding words that were there but somehow not. Instead, he played it off as best he could. “Robb, I don’t want me taking a bullet for you to be some sort of sign that I might like or even...respect you.” 

“Fuck you,” Robb blurted before he cracked into a giant smile. “I’m serious though, you risked your life for me and I can’t thank you enough for it,” he said.

“Just doing my job.” 

Then, as much as they had been messing around, it seemed like Robb realised his place. He stood and walked around the desk. “The guy we got talked almost instantly. We found out he was from a fringe group known as the faceless men. They were set on dismantling the seven kingdoms. There were many attacks all on the same day. We think their main goal was to cause as much chaos as possible and divide the kingdoms, break us apart. Killing me wouldn’t have made the North crumble. I have like twelve siblings,” he said, sitting down, chuckling but still remained somewhat solemn. 

“Are you doing ok?” gendry asked. 

“Oh yeah I’m fine. Talisa slapped me for scaring her, but other than that I’m good,” he shrugged, his hand going to his mouth as his elbow met the table, as though he were thinking of something else. Gendry had his suspicions. 

“Ever since waking up, Arya has been scaring me more than a gunman does,” Gendry admitted. 

“Why? Too much?” Robb asked with a softer voice, as though Arya would walk in and hear what they were saying. 

“She just fucking clocks me every time she sees me,” Gendry said, smirk on his lips. 

“She punches you?” Robb asked with a furrowed brow. 

“No! She hugs me like her life depends on it, and I’ve got like...bullet wounds in me. I’m never going to heal at this rate,” he said, and the two laughed, shaking their head at the ridiculousness of their Arya. 

“She loves you. If she didn’t hug you like her life depends on it, you’re not worth it for her,” Robb reminded. 

“I know,” he confirmed, though he didn’t need to be reminded. 

“We’re having a big meeting with the other kingdoms. You won’t need to get to know any of them, but I’m sure some of them would like to meet you, if that’s ok?” Robb informed, and Gendry was a little taken back. He hadn’t been so included in an event like this before. He was always on the sidelines, but now Gendry was thrust into the limelight. 

“That’s fine. When is it?” Gendry played off his nerves, but he felt them , the anxiousness in his chest still there in spite of his calm appearance. 

“In a few days, we’ll make sure that everything is in order. As you won’t be staff, but a special guest, we’ll send through details,” Robb smiled, and Gendry smiled back. Standing and taking a step forward to shake Robb’s hand. 

“Thanks,” he said, and as they shook each other’s hand there was a thought popped up at the back of his mind, and he had to question it. “Uh,” he started, taking a step back and putting his hands behind his back. “Will King Robert be there?” 

“So far he’s said yes, so I suspect so,” Robb said with a nod, and went back to his work, not questioning Gendry’s enquiry. 

With a breath, Gendry left Robb’s office and wandered the halls to go back to the room where he spent most of his time. Before he even managed to get there, his spitfire of a girlfriend found him first, holding onto his arm and guiding them back to her room. He explained the situation, and then the wandering thought that greeting people would work a hell of a lot better if he had any idea of who all the royals were. 

In Arya’s room, lying on her bed and his head in her lap, he tried to rattle off all the people he knew from memory. It wasn’t great, but he was trying. “So, Dany, Drogo, Lannisters, Robert,” Gendry stopped once the memory of the one family he knew was gone, the thought pressing to his temple but lost so quickly. “Ah fuck, who else will be there?” he cursed. Arya’s fingers were in his hair, scratching at his scalp.

“Do you want me to quiz you?” she said with a little laugh in her voice. 

Looking up at her, watching as she smiled so tenderly, he wanted to remain angry at his inability to remember anything, but just told her his frustrations. “Look, I didn’t even know the royals I was coming to work for, Arry, how am I meant to know other fucking kingdoms?” 

“Ok, so we’ll start with the easy ones. Daenerys Targaryen, queen of the crownlands. Tywin Lannister rules over The Westerlands,” 

“You’re already going too fast,” Gendry huffed, covering his face. 

“I heard something about a quiz!” A voice beamed, followed by the flare of red hair that came barrelling into the room and onto Arya’s bed. 

“Why did you invite her?” Gendry groaned, just as Sansa moved over him, face wide with a devilish smile. 

“I invited everyone,” Arya admitted, and Gendry shut his eyes. He sat up, resigned to the fate that was about to become his life. 

“Oh god, let’s just go to the dining room and roast me on a spit,” he said, taking Arya’s hand and Sansa got on the group chat, everyone eventually meeting down in the dining room. Gendry sat with Arya, the two of them studying to help him as the family gathered. In the end, every member of the family was there, chairs all set up against the wall like a true audience, where Gendry was put on display as Bran sat in his chair, wheeling himself around as he went through flashcards with Arya occasionally to see if Gendry would be able to answer everything. 

When everything was set up, Gendry was forced to sit in his chair in front of the family as Bran came over, and for the first time since getting in the dining room, he noticed what Bran was wearing. It immediately made Gendry roll his eyes. Of course this fucking family…

In a bright purple blazer that was shimmering when it caught the light, it was just as overtop as Gendry should have expected from Bran. Well, from the Starks in general. 

“Ok! Welcome to the Stark Royal Quiz night! Our contestant for this evening is Gendry Waters, a known royal idiot that can’t pick out a Stark from a Tully!” he announced, sending the family into a round of giggles. Gendry rolled his eyes. 

“I hate this, I really fucking hate this,” he groaned, covering his eyes. 

“Come on Gendry! You’ve got this!” Talisa yelled. Gendry cracked a smile, shaking his head. 

“Take your top off!” Rickon yelled. 

“Stop objectifying my boyfriend,” Arya spat back. 

“Please this is a family show,” Catelyn said, and the room erupted. 

“Wish you’d told me that a year ago,” Ygritte said, drinking her beer as she winked over to Gendry. He frowned as Jon spat out a laugh, one that he hadn’t realised was going to come out. His fiancee was certainly a funny one. But Gendry had learnt that very quickly. Ygritte wasn’t afraid to be herself, even when it came to the royals around her. 

“Now, Gendry, please tell us more about yourself,” Bran said, offering his hand over like he had a microphone. 

“Are you serious right now?!” 

“Tell us! Tell us!” The family - save the two parents amongst the group - roared back at him. 

“You guys need to get a life,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning into Bran’s hand. “I’m Gendry Waters and I hate this,” he said. 

“Good enough!” Bran said quickly, turning away and pandering back to his family. “What category will we start with?” 

“Why are there categories now?” Gendry shouted, throwing his hands in the air. 

“Because fuck you that’s why!” he said, “So! Family, name, lands, or other!” 

“Please just ask me questions, this is going to kill me,” Gendry said, throwing his head back. 

“Ok, fine, have it your way,” Bran said, an obvious huff of irritation in his voice. “Even with the seven kingdoms, there are some that are not connected to the mainland,” Bran started, and Gendry frowned. 

“Isn’t there only one? Essos?” he replied. 

There was a long pause, the family all huddled together as though they were judging Gendry’s answer. Then, they all turned to Bran. “You are correct! It was a trick question. Bonus points for the ruler of that kingdom,” he said, waiting for Gendry to answer. 

“Dothraki. Specifically Khal Drogo,” Gendry finished. 

“Off to a great start!” Bran said. 

After that, it was entertainment for the rest of the family, who drank and laughed and roared in approval at all of Gendry’s answers, even when they were wrong. Gendry got into it as much as the rest of them, the answers feeling like second nature, but he still got frustrated when the answer was wrong. 

“No, I swear to fuck it’s the Martells!” Gendry challenged in a shout. 

“No, Dothraki! Next question,” Bran played off. 

“Oh come the fuck on!” Gendry huffed, sitting back in his chair with his arms folded. 

“It’s ok, Martell’s would be honoured you thought so highly of them!” Talisa joked, much to the family's surprise. Robb leaned over to his wife, kissing at her cheek. For a moment, so singular and special, Gendry wondered if that would be him one day - happily married to the woman that he loved. 

Bran came shooting in with another question. “Which family….has some relation to the Stark family?” There was a pause in the room, waiting for him to answer. 

“Uh fuck, ok, I know this,” Gendry said, holding up his hand, trying to think. 

“You have ten seconds,” Bran said quickly, which shot Gendry’s attention back to him. 

“No I don’t, there isn’t a time on this thing,” he reminded, as they hadn’t been playing with any sort of time limit throughout the other questions asked that evening. 

“Five seconds,” Bran said again. 

“Tully! Tully! It’s the Tully family!” Gendry shouted, purely out of gut instinct.

“That is…” Bran teased, “correct! The matriarch of the Stark family, Catelyn Stark, was once known as Catelyn Tully. Please take a bow,” Bran said, and much to the amazement of the room, Catelyn stood, doing her best bow and settling back into her chair. “Now, who will be attending on behalf of the Tully family on Sunday night?” 

“Jon Arryn?” Gendry said, unsure. The Riverlands were a strange area, as they were once run by the Tully’s before it was passed to another family through a strange number of circumstances.

“Yes!” Bran said, before he grimaced. “Who will unfortunately bring our cousin Robin, but that’s a different day,” Bran said, to which all of the siblings laughed. 

“Bran,” she warned, “at least it isn’t Edmure,” Catelyn remarked. Edmure often tried to be more than just a king, which led him to be an absent king and give his title to Jon Arryn. 

“Ha! God, I hate that bastard,” Ned chuckled to himself. 

“I get to make fun of my brother, you don’t,” she warned her husband with a jab in the ribs. 

Bran then wheeled around the front of the crowd of his family quickly, doing a little stunt to draw everyone’s attention to him. 

“Ok! Lightning round! Man all the people coming on sunday and the Kingdoms they preside over!” He shot out his question and Gendry knew he had to answer fast. He sat up straight, gripping hard to his knees. 

“Tywin Lannister, Westerlands. Daenerys Targaryn, Crownlands. Khal Drogo, Essos. Jon Arryn, Riverlands,” he started, stopping himself as he thought. “Ok gimme a second!” he shouted as the family began to laugh and get more into the quiz. “Oberyn Martell, Dorne? You guys, so Ned Stark, The North. Robert Baratheon, Stormlands.” He finished, making sure he listed everyone by counting it down on his hand. It felt right, but he waited before Bran shouted out. 

“Yes!” 

“Wow, he got that quicker than Jon,” Sansa laughed, sipping at her gin, the one that she had been consistently drinking over the course of the night. 

“One family event, I just want one family event where I’m not emotionally traumatised,” Jon shouted as everyone started to pack up for the night. As soon as the family started to move, it gave Gendry a chance to breathe, and Arya moved to him, taking him by the hand and linking their fingers together. 

“Oh darlin, that’s never going to happen,” Ygritte said. 

“Your future wife fits right in,” Robb said. 

“Also! Why haven’t you guys told everyone!” Ygritte said quickly, jumping over to Talisa and Robb.

“Gendry was shot! Arya wasn’t exactly with it, you know?” he confessed. Gendry and Arya looked at each other. 

“What news?” Arya asked. She held tight to his hand, but he was about to have his suspicions confirmed. 

“Robb and Talisa are -” 

“No way!” Sansa shouted, covering her mouth and jumping over to her brother and his wife. 

“You guys aren’t!” Arya said next. 

“We’re expecting!” Talisa said with an excited giggle. It felt heartening that Gendry was included in such an announcement with the family. 

“Holy fuck I’m gonna be the cool uncle!” Bran shouted. 

“Why can’t you be the disable uncle and I’m the cool uncle?” Rickon said, to which Bran shot him a look. “Yeah that’s fair,” he said, and everyone chuckled at the resignation of him. As the family congratulated the couple, Gendry and Arya walked down the stairs slowly, finding their way to the staff entrance, and sneaking away from the family. 

Gendry pulled away, ready to go to his car, when Arya tugged hard on his hand. “Hey,” she said, stopping him and pulling him back to her. 

“I should get home,” he reminded Arya. She sighed, resting her chin on his chest and looking up towards him. 

“I love you,” she confessed, as though it were the first time. Gendry smiled, leaning down to her, stealing a kiss from her lips.

“I love you too,” he replied, kissing her once more. 

“Thank you for dealing with my family tonight,” she replied, letting them sway back and forth. Ever since he was shot, Arya was far more open about her feelings, he found. She said everything she needed to - and although they were doing so before, Arya wasn’t afraid to confess that she was desperately in love with him. He felt the same all the time. 

“I love your family. Even though they embarrass me,” he shrugged. Arya laughed, cupping his cheek. 

“That’s what family is for,” she reminded. 

“Feels like home,” Gendry confessed, feeling far too open for a moment. He wanted to tell Arya...say more than he had, but it was hard. How was he meant to say what he needed to when it meant revealing far too much of what he saw. 

“Feels more like home when you’re there,” Arya said, a flash of red running over her cheeks. He wondered if they wanted the same things, or if he was fooling himself. He didn’t wish to get scared of their future, just hopeful of where it would lead. Fear could wait for another day, he reasoned. 

“I should go,” he reminded, kissing her one last time, hands slipping from hers. “I love you. Sleep well,” he told her. 

“I will,” she said, hands going behind her back as he walked away, constantly looking over his shoulder at her, “call if something happens,” she shouted. 

“You’ll be my first call, I promise,” he yelled back in return. 

 ***

 The day came, and Gendry was wearing his best suit. Well, it was new purely because Jon and Robb took him out to get one that was suitable for a royal gathering. Gendry wanted to remind them that Khal Drogo would be there, and his attire wasn’t anything like the royal prince’s, but it would be a fruitless venture. 

He fiddled with his tie as he met with Jon Arryn and Oberyn Martell. They all took photos and thanked him for his service to the crown. They also regarded his bravery, and said his service didn’t go unrecognised, even throughout other kingdoms. Before he was to meet with the Lannisters, Arya came over to him. She was wearing a nice navy suit and a white wilk blouse underneath. She was a fashionable princess thanks much to Sansa for this particular event. 

“Stop fucking with your tie! It’s going to look different in all the pictures,” Arya warned him, straightening out his tie for the fourth time that day. He huffed, before she had to leave and go towards her family for some pictures with the Martells. 

Gendry was sure he’d be seeing the Lannisters next, he was certain of it. Yet, when it came down to it, Gendry felt his heart in his throat when he saw King Robert next. He was stern, almost menacing as he came closer to him. Gendry stood up straighter, trying to be as presentable as possibly. It scared the shit out of him. Then, Robert stopped in front of him. 

“Your majesty,” Gendry greeted, bowing to the king. 

Robert smiled as they came face to face, then, he clapped Gendry on the shoulder. “Good work son, it was very brave of you for doing what you did,” he said, clearing his throat, as though he recognised Gendry for a moment but couldn’t place him. 

“Thank you,” Gendry replied. The two stared at one another before Robert moved, turning on his heels and shouting as he saw Ned. Gendry met the Lannisters briefly before a familiar head of white hair came running through.

“Gendry!” Daenerys yelled, embracing Gendry and he held her back just as tightly. Their meeting was short the first time, but they left perfect impressions on the other. “I heard and instantly wanted to run, but I have a country to run and -” 

“Bull!” Khal Drogo yelled, making everyone in the room jump. 

“Drogo. You know he hasn’t met you before, stop scaring him,” Dany warned, swatting at his stomach lightly. 

“Arya just talked about him and I know he’s big bullheaded idiot!” 

“Thank you, Khal,” Gendry said back, offering to shake his hand. Drogo bat it away as he embraced Gendry off of his feet then back down again as he spoke. 

“Drogo! You are a warrior through and through, my people would be proud of you,” he said, batting at Gendry’s chest, which cause the impact spot as much pain as when he was shot. Gendry groaned as he clutched his chest, and Drogo laughed, hooking his arm around Gendry’s shoulder. 

For the remainder of the day, it was formal proceedings that they had organised to discuss what they would choose to implement change amongst the seven kingdoms to make them more united and less divided as they once were. 

As Gendry stood to the side with Arya and the rest of the family as Robb took point with Ned, she leaned over to him. “So,” she whispered, “King Robert talked to you?” 

“I’m glad Dany came over,” Gendry whispered back. 

“Are you alright?” 

Gendry shrugged, “I’ll be fine. As long as I don’t interact with him for long, I’ll be ok,” he said, and Arya tugged on the back of his jacket. It was the only form of affection they could give each other as Gendry reached behind his back, touching at her fingertips as lightly as he could. Her hand slipped down to his, touching their hands against each other for the briefest of moments before it was gone.

The night wound down easily, the family gathering ending as each royal had to travel back to their homeland, Arya and gendry walked to her room, weaving their way through the castle to kill the time. Gendry suspected they’d be visited by Sansa or the two youngest boys at one stage, but he didn’t mind - it wasn’t like they were planning on doing anything exciting once they got to her room. At the bottom of the stairs, ready to climb for the fourth time, they were met by a figure at the top of the staircase. 

“Gendry, may I speak with you?” Catelyn asked, her head tilting towards her office. Gendry gave a nod back to her.

“Of course,” he said, looking to Arya with a smile. “I’ll be right back,” he said, kissing her cheek.

“Don’t take too long,” she said. “Oh! Mum, can Gendry stay the night?” Arya asked, and as Gendry looked at the Queen, he went stiff, his entire body feeling trapped in one embarrassing moment. She glanced between the pair before she rolled her eyes. 

“Yes. But as I know you’re injured, I don’t expect anything to happen,” Catelyn remarked, “am I right, Mister Waters?” she asked, with a glare that could kill a person on sight if they weren’t prepared. Seven hells, Gendry almost died and he was prepared for the scolding she was ready to unleash.

“Yes, your majesty,” he said, clearing his throat. 

“Stop scaring him and go,” Arya warned as Gendry followed the queen. 

As they made it to her office, it was a complete surprise when the door closed. In a moment, Gendry was held so tightly, it was like the air had been sucked from his lungs. The queen held him tight, and the echo of a sob came out that made him look down.

“Oh!” he gasped, “Your majesty,” he said softly, stroking her arm to comfort her. She backed away, clearing her face of tears that stained her cheeks. He held her by the shoulders, making sure she was ok as he inspected her. 

“You almost gave your life for my son, and I cannot express how thankful I am for you,” she said with another sob leaving her chest. She covered her mouth and for a moment, it tore him in two; a subject of a royal, or the need to comfort like only a son could comfort his mother. The latter took over, as he brought her back into his chest and held her for a brief hug, keeping her small cries silenced by his chest. 

“It was all part of the job, your majesty,” he remarked. Staying put for a moment, she left his embrace, wiping her face clean once more and composing herself. 

“I understand,” she remarked with a sniff, “but please, and I know you’ve been trying not to, but don’t break that girl’s heart again. It was brutal enough the first time around,” she warned, and Gendry agreed with her. 

“It was never the intention, your majesty,” he said, taking a bow, heart in his throat at how natural everything seemed to be falling into place. Then, a knock came to the door, and in walked the king with a cup of tea for the queen. “Oh, good, you majesty is here too. May I please speak with you both?” Gendry started, the two listening to him throughout their entire conversation, leaving it on good terms. 

Gendry walked to Arya’s room, finding her in her bed, her arms folded an a deep scowl on her face. 

“I thought you would have been asleep. I was talking with your mum for a while,” Gendry said, loosening his tie and kick off his shoes. 

“I wanted to talk to you,” Arya said, and Gendry stopped. He cautiously took off his jacket, undoing his belt and trying hard to strip down to his underwear as possibly without aggravating Arya. 

“That doesn’t sound good,” he said, trying to kick off his pants, seeing if her reaction changed. 

“No! I just wanna talk,” she reasoned, letting her body loose, obviously realising her mistake of posture. 

“Ok,” he said, finding her spare set of boxers and loose singlet he could wear in her bed. After he was dressed, he snuck into bed beside Arya, holding onto her hand as she seemed to come up with the courage to say what she wanted. 

“I’m not going to ask you to stop,” she said, and Gendry took in a breath, as he realised what conversation he was having. “I know you like your work and it’s what brought us together.”

“But…”

“I just want you to be more careful. Put Robb in front of the bullet next time,” she said, and Gendry chuckled. 

“Arry,” he smiled. 

“Yeah I know, it’s treason,” she said, pouting. 

“I love you.” He leaned over to her, catching her chin in between his thumb and finger, kissing her quickly.  “I’ll be more careful, I promise.” 

“I know you will. You can’t stop danger all the time. Just...try not to get shot,” she asked weakly, looking at him with caution. 

“Trust me, I never want to get shot again,” he laughed and Arya hit his arm for being an idiot. “Can we go to bed now?” 

“Yes,” she said, and Gendry lept at his chance to curl her into his embrace, holding her tightly and kissing behind her ear. He just wanted her to know he held her as tenderly as she deserved. 

 *~*~*

 When Sansa arrived in Arya’s room that morning, ready to finally tell her sister who she was dating, she wasn’t quite expecting to see what she did. In the bed slept Arya and Gendry wrapped in sheets and each other’s embrace. 

“I’m not the most welcoming person to anyone. I’ve found that distance keeps me safe. The only person I’ve ever truly opened up to is my husband,” she said, reaching over to the coffee table between them, and picking up a cup of what he assumed was tea. Taking a sip, she continued what she was saying, “but now, I feel as though I must open up to you.” 

“To me?” he said with a furrow in his brow. “I don’t think that’s necessary, your majesty,” he chuckled, readying for the night to be finished and he could leave. 

“For this conversation, and this conversation only, refer to me as Catelyn. I want us both to be honest,” she said, and Gendry swallowed.

“Alright,” he said with a nod.

“Tea?” she asked, gesturing to the teapot that rested nearby. 

“Sure,” he replied, though he were still unsure this was all happening.  Catelyn poured him a cup and slid it over to him. 

“Arya and I don’t get on that much, I suspect you’ve known that,” she explained, to which Gendry shook his head.

“I wouldn’t say that, your majesty,” he replied, to which she looked at him with a frown.  “Catelyn,” he corrected. 

“Then what would you say?” she asked. 

“I’d say she’s so willing to make you proud, but can’t measure up to you. She’s scared you won’t love her,” he replied, clearing his throat as he spoke words meant to be from someone else. He knew Arya well enough to know what she thought of her mother - though fear she instilled in most people, Arya didn’t ever think she’d be one. Until she was smothered by her mother and it became clear that disappointing her was the last thing she wanted to do. 

“I love that girl with all my heart. She’s everything to me,” she said, clearing her throat as he voice got choked up, “all my children are. I know she’s Ned’s favourite. She looks like his sister,” she said, to that Gendy didn’t know. He knew that Ned loved Arya unlike the others, but he didn’t know what Arya truly meant to the patriarch. “But Arya has greatness in her. I just want her to use it,” she finished, sipping at her tea again. Gendry reached for his own, sipping at it in case she looked at him with that scowl again. Gods, even if he wasn’t afraid of people, Catelyn had a way about her that made him feel like he was about to be shot. 

“She is,” he agreed.

“She started to. When you were with her,” she commended, “I may have been blind to your love, but I should have seen it. Arya lit up when you were around. You pushed her to be better. To be her own warrior, like she’s always wanted.” 

“Why am I here, your -” he stopped as she glared at him again, “Catelyn, why was I called here, really? Because I know it isn’t to talk about my wanting to change details.” 

“Please stop waiting.” It was a direction that Gendry wasn’t allowed to disobey. The stern gaze she held him in was enough to tell him what he needed to do - he needed to stop being a fool, and follow what he should have from the beginning - his heart. “I love her, and seeing how she’s changed, it breaks my heart. And she loves you. She’s so stubborn, like me. We build walls to keep those that would hurt us out,” she said with a sigh as she looked out the window, as though it were hard to even admit - or maybe a memory was too hard. Either way, it took her a minute to compose herself. “I don’t want her to have walls,” she said, turning back to him, eyes sadder than a few moments ago. 

“Your majesty, I love your daughter, I do. But wouldn’t it better for her to fit with any of the matches that you found for her?” he asked, clearing his throat, trying to read the queen. To that, she shrugged.

“It would make the world easier, but that’s not the world. That’s not Arya’s heart. I have a profound respect for you, even if you don’t see me showing it to you. I hope that in the future, I will get more opportunities to show you that.” It was a matter of fact, she was willing to open up, tell him the truth, even though she seemed uncomfortable to say it. Like she said, walls are kept up to protect the heart - exposing it meant there was a possibility of attack. “You would make her the happiest woman in the world. And me, the happiest mother,” she said, a smile forming before behind hidden by her cup. 

“Thank you,” Gendry said with a nod, not sure what else to say. As the queen took her final sip, she put it down and reclined back in her chair. 

“Now, I’ll tell you the simplest way to get back into a stubborn heart,” she said, a rise in her chin, as though the confidence she had lacked before had now come up without restraint. 

“What?” 

“You really think Ned and I had the smoothest sailings? Like I said, she and I are alike,” she scoffed, and Gendry leaned forward, waiting for the advice, “tell her everything.” 

“Excuse me?” he replied. 

“Every burden your heart has had to bear, why it had to shatter, why you feel the way you do. Give her every part of yourself, even if you’re frightened that she’ll turn away. She wants to see your walls go down too,” she explained, as though she were recalling something that helped her in the past. The kindness in her eyes, the sincerity, it made Gendry feel welcomed into a part of a person that had closed off most people. It was hard, and he understood, so he gave her a nod, swallowing the lump in his throat from what she showed. 

“Thank you,” he replied. Then, as she reached for her cup, she gestured for him to leave. 

“You’re being moved to Robb’s detail for a short time. Until everything is settled, I think it’ll be best. Robb and Arya don’t see each other a lot, so it works in your favour,” she said, sipping her tea, smiling to him. 

“Thank you, your majesty,” Gendry said, bowing as he got up to leave. As he turned, the queen cleared her throat, which made him turn. 

“I quite like being called Catelyn. That’s why I asked,” she said, and shrugged to his questionable look. “I still hold authority even without my title,” 

“I’ll keep that in mind, Catelyn,” he smiled back, and for a moment, it seemed like she had enjoyed the way he said her name. 

When he left, he had every intention to tell Arya what was going on, but when he was met with Ned Dayne kissing her, something built up in his chest so fast, he closed himself down. It took him a lot of alcohol to buck up the courage to go back and tell Arya everything. 

He wondered if Catelyn ever had to resort to such things, but that was a drunken thought as he banged on Arya’s door at two in the morning. 

 *~*~*

 It had been two days since Gendry had stumbled to her room late at night, and stayed with her until morning. Neither of them regretted the night, but Gendry didn’t handle his hangover well. Especially when Arya dragged him to her parents, announcing to them that she was dating him again. What she wasn’t entirely expecting was her parents colliding into an embrace and dragging Gendry into hugs that he took very awkwardly. 

After her parents explained they were happy, then came the awkward part. Well, in Arya’s opinion, it was awkward to admit that her boyfriend was technically a Baratheon, but a bastard one that had never met his father. What she wasn’t expecting was her father to not react at all - his best friend had fathered a bastard, but it wasn’t a surprise. Really, it wasn’t a surprise from what Arya knew of the man, but to be her boyfriend, she was a little shocked on that note. Catelyn, on the other hand did react, though not the way Arya expected. Catelyn said that the information wouldn’t come out, that the family would protect Gendry’s privacy in the matter and no one would ever think Gendry couldn’t fit in with the image of the royal family, regardless of their home life. 

After that, Arya took Gendry back to her room where she got him to lie down. He looked sick for most of the meeting, as though at any second he’d keel over. He wasn’t sick or anything, just hungover and needed some rest. Taking care of him, spending time casually made Arya feel wanted and needed. And she knew, the minute he could, he’d repay her tenfold. He just loved her. Arya loved feeling loved. 

When Gendry had to go home after his shift, Arya held onto his hand as long as she could, trying to keep them together as long as possible. Instead, Gendry kissed her, dragging her up onto her toes with his hands on her cheeks to guide her to him. With her breath stolen, she was dazed to his wandering off. She hated that he bested her, but loved the smile he held when he looked back at her. He felt loved too. 

The day following, Sansa came crashing into Arya’s room after breakfast. It was briefly mentioned that the pair were back together, and even after her siblings badgered her with questions, she remained tightlipped and went back to her room to go over some notes she needed for a public appearance for her organisations first public event. It was nerve wracking, but knowing Gendry would support her was enough. 

“I’m so glad you guys are back together!” Sansa screamed, pushing Arya back into the bed and wrapping her entire body around Arya. All of Arya’s notes were scattered off her bed, and 

“Can you shut up? Gendry is at the door,” Arya said, pulling herself up to see Gendry grinning at the edge of the door. 

“And I can hear you,” he shouted into the room and Arya collapsed into the bed, holding her hands over her face, “plus I’m used to it by now, can I come in?” 

“Yes,” Arya called, to which Gendry came in, closing the door behind him. He walked in, sitting at the edge of the bed, watching as Sansa hugged at Arya’s side, kicking at Gendry’s thigh - though he didn’t seem to mind. “I’m gonna miss you around all the time,” Arya confessed, pouting as she was unable to move at that moment. She would have found her place in his arms as many times she could, just to make sure it was all real.

“Just hang around Robb all the time,” Gendry smirked, and Arya wriggled out of her sister’s embrace, colliding with Gendry, who held her in his lap comfortably. 

“You two are gross,” Sansa groaned. 

“Hey, you wanted this, you pay the price,” Gendry said and Arya cackled, looking at Sansa’s face, trying her hardest to be mad at his answer, but she did in fact push for this to be their norm. Instead, she smiled and shook her head. 

For most of the day, Arya went around organising things with a few different staffers, making sure that everything in two weeks time would run smoothly. It would also be the same time that Gendry would no longer be on Arya’s detail, so she found herself glancing over to him, making sure he was still there - which he was, but she didn’t understand why she was so scared. That he’d leave, that’d he’d disappear right under her nose. It wasn’t fair to him after they’d sorted things out to still feel like she couldn’t trust him. 

At lunch, she told him as much. Gendry wasn’t offended, but rather said that she needed to feel comfortable around him. He wasn’t going to leave her willingly, so she didn’t need to worry. Time was a factor in all of this mess, and she’d trust him not to leave again. But time would be the thing that told them as much. 

Every time they talked, Arya found herself falling more in love with him - that there was an openness to him that there wasn’t before he came to her door drunk as hell. Gendry told her everything, even when he didn’t have to, but he was just being honest, and seeing him unguarded and unashamed of showing himself off to Arya made her feel special. 

He left the same way he had the day before, kissing her and making her feel hazy that she couldn’t keep him around. She reasoned that one day, she’d overcome the way he made her feel, that she’d trap him into staying for a little while longer. Yet, there was another part of her that craved the feeling to never leave, to constantly fall for him regardless of how he kissed her - she’d always feel her heart leap and she couldn’t catch up with him. 

As afternoon snuck in, Arya felt the urge to do something she hadn’t done since she was eighteen. From the depths of her closest, she found the blonde hair that had been hidden under shoes and got everything together. With the bralette wrapped in straps with a crisscross against her chest, emphasising her cleavage - even the little that it was. Over it she wore a flannel, half red and half white, the two competing flannels sewn together one night by Sansa. Her sister had the matching piece. Arya’s outfit was paired with black jeans and boots, and she was almost ready. With round glasses on, she fixed her hair beneath the blonde wig and fixed herself into a presentable person. 

When she was younger, she thought the best way to sneak out of the palace was to be someone completely different. In the end, she used it only a few times before she realised she just had to escape her security well enough to make it into town. With hundreds of different routes through the palace, she made it impossible to follow her. 

Heading into town, she was unrecognised by those that passed her by, and she easily made it to the apartment that held memories that no one but the two of them could touch. Knocking a fanciful beat, Arya stood with her hands behind her back. When once she tried to run away from him, she now ran to him. 

Gendry opened the door and blinked, as though he had to take her in a few extra seconds to make sure it was really her. Arya beamed back. 

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asked, opening the door up wider and guiding her inside. Gendry seemed relaxed, in sweatpants and a tank that had been worn out from use. Seeing him like that often made Arya’s heart flutter - a way that no suit could do. With him every day in a suit, seeing a relaxed Gendry was her favourite version of him. 

“Wanted to hang out, and knew if I texted you would have told me to stay home,” she explained, throwing her things on his kitchen counter and looking back at him. He grinned as he walked over to her. As he stood a foot away from her, his hands graced up to her cheeks before they gently drifted to her hair, combing back the wig and laying it perfectly on the counter. 

“You have a weird fascination with my apartment,” Gendry grinned as he leaned down to her. His lips grazed her own and Arya felt herself lose her breath, as though he had intended to take it. The kiss he laid there was brief, but allowed Arya a moment to recover.

“It feels like a home,” she confessed. 

“Well don’t get too attached,” he scoffed.

“What? Why?” she asked.

“I’m moving,” he said, going to his fridge and taking out a beer. Arya frowned, rounding the bench and not allowing him space. He was taken back by how quick she moved, but her heart was hammering for an answer. 

“W-what? I thought we were passed all this and you said you -” 

Gendry’s eyes went wide and put his beer down, holding onto her shoulders. “Ah! Don’t get worked up. I’m moving to a house closer to the palace. It’s cheap, and Pod said he’d move in with me to help for it, so I’m moving to be closer to you,” he explained, and Arya felt her face get hot - embarrassment washing over her.

“Oh,” she said, “you’re kinda clingy,” she tried to play it off. 

“Says you,” Gendry said, nose nudging against hers. She hated that it worked to calm her down.

“Yes, says me. Your beautiful, royal girlfriend,” she said, leaning against the counter, trying to seem as seductive as possible. She wasn’t sure if it’d work after her whole freak out. 

“That’s a first for you. Embracing the royalty thing,” he said, hands either side of her on the bench, cornering her in her spot. She felt the air shift, heat fuelling their interaction more than it should have. 

“You should see me in a tiara,” she said, voice low, dripping with allure. She begged for him to fall for it. He didn’t, as he scoffed and moved off from the bench, taking his beer, and heading back to the rest of his living room. 

“Oh please, like you’d allow your family to force one on you,” he reminded. He was right, but she couldn’t let him know that. 

“You’d be surprised, I can be very girly when I have someone to impress,” she said, following after him, biting at her lip, wondering if he’d turn around. 

“I feel like you’re reaching for something here,” he glanced over his shoulder, crackling

“A kiss, mostly,” she said, smiling. Gendry turned, putting the beer down on the coffee table, hands going into his pockets. 

“Oh I know, you usually have to reach for that. Short ass.” 

“Ok, not my fault you’re practically a giant,” Arya retailated, her chest heaving as she tried to calm the storm of lust that was filling her body. It was no use when Gendry gave her that cocky look, like that day they first met - major cunt was coming out to play and she almost hoped he stayed. 

“I think you’re the one that’s stunted. I mean, I’m not even that tall. Most people are taller than I am.” He cracked a smirk and Arya was gone. 

He should have known what teasing would get him. Or maybe that was why he did it. Arya ran into him, pulling hard on the back of his neck to tug him down and have their mouths meet. It was hard, and mostly teeth, but it softened when Gendry guided Arya up into his arms. Their heat fuelled their encounter and their skin burned as they touched, leaving streaks of wonderful bliss in their bodies. 

Gendry crashed them to the couch, dragging her flannel from her arms as he kissed the length of her body. He tasted her for what seemed like hours but was only a few minutes. Either way, Arya became impatient and dragged him back to her, kissing him as she fumbled with her belt and Gendry stripped himself out of his clothes. 

As their clothes fell around his apartment living room, Arya back in her favourite place, sitting upon his lap and taking strides like it was a place made for her - she felt perfect. Her world had rounded to a point where she only cared about being with the man that gasped every time she sank down back into his lap. He lingered kisses on her collar as though they were his last, but every time he kissed her, he made it clear that he would never stop kissing her for as long as he lived. 

Arya didn’t care how long they lasted, she just wanted to be with him. When she looked at Gendry, his features tight with a coming release, she cupped his cheek. Watching how he softened, allowing himself to fall apart with his eyes focused on her before he sighed, whispering into her skin like she were a miracle he had to continue to pray for. Arya fell in love with him every time he looked at her - and she knew, every time their eyes met, Gendry was feeling the same. 

Gendry had placed a throw blanket over their bodies as they laid on the floor, the tv playing some show that Arya didn’t pay attention to. She had drifted in and out of sleep, adoring the beating heart that lay beneath her ear, and the sensation of her boyfriend breathing was enough to settle any fears that lay within her. She hadn’t realised what time it was until Gendry’s finger poked in her cheek. 

“Hey, we should get you back to the palace,” he said, voice harsh as though he had just woken up himself. Arya looked around, finding a clock that read 11:45pm. Arya fell back against his chest. 

“Ugh,” Arya groaned, holding him closer, “I don’t wanna.” 

“Babe, come on, we can’t have you out this late,” he whispered, trying to shift out of her grasp. Instead, Arya pulled on him again, her chin on his chest and looking up at him.

“I love you,” she said, smile on her face. Gendry laughed, his nose nudging against hers, heart fluttering to a comfort. 

“Yeah, I love you too, but I’m still not letting you stay here to spite your mother,” he said, finally managing to move around and grab his clothes. Arya clutched at the throw, pulling it to her chest as she watched him extend to get her things. 

“Which reminds me, what did my mother say to you that night Ned Dayne came to my room?” she asked, which made Gendry’s attention whip back to her. He had a pink blush running over his cheeks. 

“We don’t need to -” 

“I’ll go home if you tell me,” she bargained. Gendry savoured the query, taking a few moments before he sighed. 

“How about I’ll walk you back,” he asked back, pulling his sweatpants on as he went to gather up her things. 

“Ok?” she replied before Gendry asked if she wanted to burrow warmer clothes for the night. They changed into comfortable clothes, rugging up with Arya’s wig coming back on. Gendry pulled a scarf around her shoulders, making sure she was cozy as they walked arm in arm along the sidewalk. There was something so special about it - it would be natural for any ordinary couple to do, to take care of one another even if it were just to dress for the weather. But still, everything about Arya’s life wasn’t ordinary. Gendry gave her the simplicity of normalcy, though she doubted he realised he did it. 

“So, why are we walking back to the palace and not having you drive me?” she asked, head resting on his shoulder. Gendry huff, a plume of frosted air billowed from his nose.

“Your mum cares a lot about you,” he replied, and Arya looked up at him with a curious look. 

“Okay? But that still doesn’t explain why she wanted to speak with you,” she said, tugging on his arm a little. He chuckled to himself as he looked back at her. 

“I don’t feel right talking about this without her here. I have to say, she’s a very frightening woman, I see where you get it from.”

“You’re avoiding the subject,” she reminded him. 

He stopped, looking back at her, as though it were sensitive to breach the topic. Gendry sighed before he spoke. “We talked about you. About us.” They continued to walk but Arya wanted to hash this out in one spot, so it didn’t feel like they were running away from another conversation. 

“What did she say, I swear to -” 

“She wanted me to make things right,” he interrupted, and Arya’s brow knit. She hadn’t expected him to say that. What happened that night that he wouldn’t say. He seemed stiff, as though something were holding him back. 

“What? What did she say?” 

“I won’t tell you that,” he replied, jaw set tight. 

“Why?” 

Gendry stopped again, worry in his eyes. “Arya, I love you. I won’t lie to you, but that was something your mother…” he stopped, and even Arya realised the mistake. Whatever happened that night made him comfortable enough to not refer to her by her title. Part of it made Arya scared. The other felt proud that he were as welcome as any other person. “ - the queen confided in me. She wanted it to be between she and I. I want to respect that if I’m going to stay in your life,” he explained, and Arya held her tongue. She had to trust him on this, everything in her told her as much. 

“I understand.” 

Gendry took hold of her hand, fingers lacing with her own, and all she wanted to do at that moment was kiss him. He had a way of making everything normal feel like an extra ounce of magic, that it were so much more special than just being a normal action. They continued to walk, like any other couple in the middle of the night. “You can talk to her, you know,” he said, bringing her hand up to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. 

“What do you mean?” she asked. 

“You could have told her, like you told your dad. She loves you in a way that your dad doesn’t,” he said, a confidence in his words that she didn’t have. She didn’t understand what happened in their conversation, but it was enough that gave Gendry sympathy for her mother. 

“I know that, but...she’s hard to get to know.” 

“You’d be surprised how similar you both are,” he smiled. Arya tugged at his hand, making him look down at her. 

“Are you being mean?” 

“No? Of course not. I’m just telling you, you don’t have to be afraid of her when you both have the same hearts,” he said,  “how do you think I got the courage to talk to you that night?” 

“A bottle of whiskey?” she scoffed. 

“And two mothers punching me in the head for being an idiot,” he replied, shaking his head with a smile pressed to his lips. 

“Why do you have to say the sweetest shit when we’re out in public?” she groaned, head leaning against his shoulder once more.

“Cause it give you a reason to kiss me extra hard when I leave to go home,” he joked, and Arya pouted, knocking her hip into his. 

“I’m going to kick you first.” 

“I’m sure the kiss will make up for any pain,” he said, and Arya scoffed. They looked at each other with joy, something that Arya was long since gone between them. Everything felt like it was falling back into place, and that breaking the pair apart would be impossible now. 

Arya made good on her promise to kick him, her foot making impact with Gendry’s backside. It wasn’t anything hard - barely a lovetap, but the minute he reacted, Arya shot up into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him with every ounce she could. Gendry was right - he won a kiss that was extra hard for being so sweet and she wasn’t able to show it in the moment. Ever since getting back together, Gendry made it a priority to say exactly what he wanted - to say the sappy shit that Arya lied about hating. A part of her loved it - it meant she was like every other girl, to be loved without hesitation, and fully to the point where lines like that worked. Gendry loved her, told her so, and made sure she felt it all. 

Arya never thought she’d feel loved like that. Ever. 

But Gendry made it so easy. He smiled, and kissed, and held her like she deserved so much more than he was giving. In reality, it was always the perfect amount for her. They crashed into a wall, hiding themselves from prying eyes for a brief moment, only to be interrupted by a sharp clearing of a throat close by. They shot apart, wiping their lips clean as they laughed to themselves. At the bottom of the stairs stood the queen, her arms folded, and Arya felt a blush run over her cheeks. She knew most of her siblings had been caught in a similar situation, but it was never something that had happened to Arya. It felt like she were experiencing things as she should. 

“Goodnight, Gendry.” The Queen was stern and Gendry bowed to her, briefly stealing another kiss from Arya before he bowed to the queen once more. 

“Goodnight, your majesty,” he said, backing away from her.

“You’re being polite again,” she called out. Gendry stopped, laughing as he combed a hand through his hair. 

“Yes, sorry, Catelyn,” he said, and Arya nearly gasped, looking back at her mother with shock. To her surprise, the queen smirked, shaking her head at his words. 

“Still the queen, bodyguard!” she bellowed and Arya stood in shock for a few more moments before she finally walked over to her mother. Arya shifted out of her wig and looked to her mother. 

“What was that all about?”

“What?” 

“Ok, you’re being weird now,” she replied to her mother’s coy nature. 

“Invite him to dinner,” she said in return, making Arya confused. 

“What?” 

“Invite Gendry to family dinner tomorrow night,” she said, but it was not lost on Arya that the next day would be Arya and Gendry’s last day as protector and protectee. “I would like for him to be a part of family events from now on. In private or public, however you wish,” Catelyn replied, smiling before she pulled her robe in tighter, tucking herself together before she went to go up the stairs once more. 

“Thank you, mum,” Arya said. Catelyn stopped, turning to her daughter.

“Always, sweetheart. Always,” she said, smile sweet and wonderful. 

“Can we have lunch tomorrow? I want to talk to you,” Arya called out, her mother the one now confused out of the pair. 

“About what, darling?” 

“My life, if that isn’t too inconvientant?” Arya questioned. Like Gendry said, Arya should have trusted her mother the same way she trusted her dad. She knew there was still a ways to go between them, but if what Gendry said was true, that she fought for the two of them to be together, she should have trusted that her mother always had her best interests at heart. 

“Of course not, I’d love to,” Catelyn said, smiling so wide, it was such a foreign look that Arya had never seen her mother make. It was a type of joy that was reserved for her father, not for Arya, and it felt like a blessing to get it. 

The pair walked up the stairs together, planning their lunch for the following day, perfectly at peace with one another. It felt right, to be in such a radiant glow, and for a moment, she wondered if she and her mother shared the same light, but they were so enamoured with their own to see how brightly the other shined. 

The next day came in, and where Arya thought she’d get to spend the day with her boyfriend for whatever time she could, he was whisked away to run down his new position. They were sure he’d switch back as soon as a few of Robb’s different press tours were over with, but it still hurt that she didn’t get to spend more time with him. Instead, Arya dressed for her lunch with her mother, held in the queen’s quarters, her own formal dining area in the palace, one that Arya had only been in a few times before. 

Their lunch went smoothly, a few jokes passed between them to Arya’s surprise. They were able to speak of Arya’s life, how she felt overwhelmed about most things, especially with the organisations and being the face of those things. Also how she felt about Gendry, from start to finish, she was honest with her mother about how she felt. She left out the night they got together...or the night before. It would have stunted the conversation, she could tell. 

After that, her mother told her about the things she was working on. It was honest and rather funny to find that her mother didn’t particularly like doing certain royal activities but was forced to in order to seem like a giving queen. She was rather shy, she only warmed to certain people, Catelyn confessed, but she found that opening herself up more was feeling a lot more freeing than she once anticipated. 

After that, Arya went to her room, going over notes that were sent to her for a meeting she had with a few different organisation to form the gym or gym programs that would help what Arya was aiming to do. It was hard to sift through it all, as Arya felt like she was going cross-eyed, but she eventually found her way to getting through them and sending back her own notes to all parties. When she was done, it was late afternoon and everyone was running about, getting ready for dinner that would soon be put on the table. 

Arya got a text from Gendry and she raced down the stairs, finding him at the bottom in a casual dress outfit, like he were taking Arya into town. He looked nice, but not at all too formal for their family dinners. Which had just occurred to Arya that she never spoke to him about it. As she reached him, pressing a kiss to his lips delicately before she sighed. 

“So,” she started, “you heard.”

He gave a soft shrug, taking hold of her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, and they walked slowly to the dining hall. “You dad texted me, which I didn’t realise I had your dad's number, but that’s a different conversation.” Arya laughed, holding his hand tighter.

“You look nice.”

“Thank you,” Gendry smiled, kissing at her crown. As they walked through the doors, the family had already gathered around, taking their seats and enjoying each other’s company. As the pair walked in, Gendry gripped at her hand, a slight hitch in his breath as he stood blankly for a moment. 

“Hey Gendry!” Sansa greeted, bounding towards them and tugging the pair into respective hugs. Gendry smiled, though Arya could still tell he was nervous for all of this. He knew he were the main attraction to the night’s event, but it would be his first and last night in the spotlight. 

“Hey everyone,” he greeted, waving politely to the family that screamed back hellos - save for the king and queen, which Arya expected. When Ned sat down at the end of the table, everyone followed. Arya sat down next to Sansa, and Gendry stood for a moment at the seat beside her. 

“Sit down, dummy,” she whispered, jabbing a finger in his leg. 

“Right, sorry. Used to standing when you guys are eating,” he laughed, sitting down next to her, sighing out his nerves, though when she looked at his thigh, his leg was obviously jumping. Putting a hand on his thigh, she felt him relax. As they settled, their meal was brought out, everyone leaning over each other to reach for their desired sampling. 

“Welcome to the fray outsider! How does it feel to sit at a table full of pompous assholes,” Ygritte said.

“Ygritte,” Jon warned. 

“Jon, look at your family for a second and tell me which of them isn’t snickering under their breaths?” Arya glanced around, seeing her siblings laughing to the side as they tried to bite into their meals. 

“Is there a club for us outsider Starks? Those that join?” Gendry asked, taking a forkful of food into his mouth. He had certainly calmed down some since being around them for much longer than an introduction. 

“You’re called Stark wannabes by us,” Rickon confessed over a mouthful of food. When the table went silent, he looked up and mumbled, “was I not allowed to tell him?”

“I’m guessing you and Talisa got most of this already?” Gendry laughed. Ygritte and Talisa looked to one another and shrugged back. 

“Fun to finally have a lad to poke fun at. They’ve been rather sensitive about us ladies,” Talisa admitted, much to Arya’s surprise. Talisa rarely spoke ill or even so much as spoke at family dinners. Now, she seemed like once she was part of the family, she was beautifully a Stark. 

“I’m used to dating her. Family can’t be much worse,” Gendry said, to which some of her siblings snickered. 

“I’d say we’re only getting started, but Arya added you straight to the group chats, so you know how brutal we are,” Sansa regarded. 

“Wait, he got added before he started dating Arya?! What the fuck Jon!” 

“Can we please not swear at the table,” Catelyn suddenly interrupted before she shook her head, as though she remembered herself, “sorry. Forgot you weren’t my kids. You can keep swearing,” she said, taking a small piece of her meal. 

“Thanks, your majesty,” Ygritte replied.

“Ygritte! You’re about to become a daughter-in-law. You’re allowed to bloody well call me Catelyn.” 

“The queen going off tonight!” Ygritte said with a beaming voice, elbowing Jon in the side, who simply blushed at all of it. He really did hate how wild the family got sometimes. 

“Someone has put a little extra something in mum’s tea,” Bran said as he reached for his drink.

“It was me. You are all insufferable,” Catelyn murmured as she sipped at her tea. Everyone went silent. It took a moment before Ned snorted over his water, snickering to himself as the rest of the family remained stunned. 

“Did mum just make a joke?!” Rickon howled before the table erupted in joy. Gendry grinned at Arya’s side, as though what she had promised him so long ago was now a possibility - her family was his own, in any capacity 

The dinner went off without a hitch, everyone talked and no one was excluded. It felt like a perfect family, all found within each other, even those who had no blood between them. Arya was in her twenties, and it was truly one of the first times where she felt as though she belonged in her family. Sure, she got along with them, and enjoyed spending all her time with them, but it didn’t feel like family. Until Gendry. It felt whole, as though before, there was always a missing piece that she could never quite place. 

Dinner ended, and Gendry walked Arya back to her room. They were slow, as though to drag out the last remaining parts of their time together. It wasn’t until they reached her door that they had a chance to freeze their time together. It still felt all for naught. Instead, Arya held onto his hand, looking up at him with a pout, trying not to feel as sad as she looked, but that too was for nothing. 

“I don’t want this to be the last night you’re my bodyguard,” she admitted. Gendry laughed, tucking hair behind her ear.

“I’ll always be yours,” he reminded.

“Ew, why do you make it sound so gross,” Arya said, smiling even though she wanted to act tough. 

“Ok, I’m leaving,” Gendry said, jokingly pulling away. Arya tugged him back, making sure he stayed where he was. Arya walked backwards into her room, dragging Gendry with her. 

“Nope. You’re mine. I get to keep you however long I want,” she said. Gendry’s eyes went dark, and Arya knew exactly what it meant.

“How do you want me?” he asked, voice low. It ripped through her, lust feeling like it was pouring from every part of her. Gendry shut the door behind him. 

“Now Gendry, that sounds like something bad,” she whispered. 

“Then you’re getting the right idea,” he smirked, leaning over her and kissing her quickly. He scooped her into his arms as though she were weightless. She curled her legs around his hips, rising to allow their bodies to form against the other. 

They fell around her room, stripping bare, colliding with furniture as they stumbled to the bed. The rest of their night together was spent finding each other in bliss. They found their bodies in sync as they often did in her bed - rolling with one another as they let each dominant side of each other win out. Arya could sit upon his lap, take stride to reach her end, Gendry could hold her hips as he thrust above her. They both came undone and found comfort in her bed as they had done so many times before. 

Arya was laid at his side, holding onto him like she were to hold him for the last time. It wouldn’t be, but every time she left his side, she felt an absence from herself - as though a part of her was missing, split into him to create who they were. She carried a part of him, as he carried a part of her. It would remain that way until they were together, entangled in sheets. 

As she watched him sleep, curling himself around her, his arms holding her like a vice, not allowing her an inch to escape, she couldn’t help but love the feeling. Trapped in his embrace, she didn’t want him any other. They were their own selves, hidden from sight, and Arya loved that. She’d always love that, the secret nature of their love - not that no one knew, but no one could understand the love they shared for one another, even if they knew the pair were together. 

“Stop staring, would ya. I’m not going anywhere,” he said, surprising her. She thought he was asleep. 

“You say that, but you left after a night like this,” she reminded him. Gendry peeked through one eye to look at her. 

“You’d have to kill me to get me away from you again,” he said, voice groggy, his arms tiring around her.  

“You really think you’re going to stay with me for the rest of your life?” she asked with a slight giggle to her words. 

“If the Gods allow it, oh you bet your ass,” he said confidently. Arya smiling, tucking herself in further into his embrace. 

“I love you,” she said, finally resting her eyes.

“Love you too. Now go to sleep,” he said, though she needed little prompting. 

 *~*~*

 Since Gendry had started with Robb, two weeks after the dinner, Gendry had been welcomed fairly easily by the other members of his team. He had spent little time with the prince himself, but Gendry expected as much. 

As for that day, it was a special event, something to do with kingdom communication that was being announced throughout the seven kingdoms. Gendry didn’t quite care about them, but it meant a bigger role for him to play when the prince was on stage. 

Fixing up his tie, the prince came out of his bathroom. He was wearing a navy suit, and it certainly complimented his appearance for the day. 

“Your Highness. Good morning,” Gendry greeted. Robb looked over to Gendry and he gently smiled. 

“I’m glad you’re on my team today,” Robb said, though because he hadn’t spent much time with the prince, gendry wasn’t sure how truth his statement was. 

“I serve at the pleasure of your highness,” Gendry said, standing at the door and his hands going behind his back. Robb slowly turned to him, a scowl of disgust running over his face. 

“God I hope you don’t say that to my sister,” he said, and Gendry winced. 

“I hope you don’t mind if I’m frank here,” he said, clearing his throat, “but fuck, that is absolutely disgusting to even think about.” 

“So you drew a line?” he asked, fixing the cufflink back into place. 

“If I can remain frank with you,” 

“Sure Frank,” Robb said with a grin. He was definitely going to be a dad one day cause the jokes were on par. 

“Yes. I know when duty outweighs the heart. I respect the crown.”

“You didn’t when you started dating my sister,” Robb reminded. Gendry frowned. 

“Are you mad at me?” 

“I’m mad she didn’t tell us, and if I’m taking that out on you, I’m sorry,” he said, giving a stiff nod to her. “I also don’t like the fact that you two stole the light of my wedding, but whatever,” he said under his breath and Gendry scoffed. 

“Arya was right,” he said with a laugh. “You love the sound of your own voice.” 

“I’m your future king, Gendry,” Robb warned. 

“I’m from the South, your highness, you sure as hell aren’t my king,” he said back confidently. To that, Robb laughed, chuckling as he shook his head. 

“I’m just giving you a hard time cause I’m the older brother. Nothing more. I have nothing against you or Arya, and definitely not your relationship. I wish you two all the happiness,” he said. 

“Thank you, your highness,” Gendry replied, trying not to nod like an idiot. 

“Seeing as how you’re dating my sister, you can probably call me Robb,” he said with a soft shrug. 

“Probably?” Gendry scoffed. 

“It’s still weird, please just let me get used to it,” Robb replied.

“That’s fine.” 

With one smile, Robb was off and Gendry was following behind. Robb was in his own world, getting texts that he needed to reply to, as well as people coming up to him to confirm what was going on. It was clear that he had a lot on his plate, and was going to be used to the schedule as the future king. 

“My wife keeps complaining about this grey streak in my bloody hair,” Robb said suddenly over his shoulder. Gendry realised Robb was talking to him, as Jon was at the end of the hall waiting for them. 

“I’m not a stylist or anything, your highness, but from what I’ve seen on the internet, the people really love the streak,” Gendry said. 

“You mean women,” Robb corrected. 

“Yes. Daddy material right there,” Gendry shrugged to which Robb stopped, cackling hard, holding his side.

“Why do you have to say things like that?” he said, clearing his throat and finally they made it to Jon, who informed them both on the day’s schedule and what Gendry needed to know about the venue. 

It was an open event, for as many spectators to see as possible. They had nearly all security pulled, with the family coming as well to keep everyone secure at the same time at the event. Gendry needed to be Robb’s body man to be able to protect him as Jon needed to observe the entire event for any eventuality.  

When they arrived, Gendry didn’t realise how open space Jon meant it to be. It was huge with hundred, if not thousands, of people scattered around. It didn’t allow any room for someone to study every person like a smaller venue could have. It was open air, which meant open opportunity from every conceivable angle.

Anything could go wrong, they were walking into a pit, readying for anything to come and attack. There were so many people, so many enemies, that any of the people in the crowd could be it. Ordinary didn’t mean safe - where normalcy was the binary, the outlier was anyone. There was always a way to tell where someone was feigning it compared to others, that they suddenly were out of place in a crowd. But in a crowd that huge, it was as thought finding a needle in a haystack. 

Even as they walked towards the podium which Robb was meant to speak at, Gendry felt that there was something he was missing. The minute he got there, Gendry felt as though there was something out of place. Everything felt perfect, there was a right amount of security around, there was everything in place. The only thing he could work out was the crowd. 

It was chaotic, with too many people to discern amongst the crowd. Picking one out was going to be impossible. Robb took to the centre of the stage, speaking into the microphone. Gendry stood close by, but he just felt like he needed to find what was bothering him. There was no way to tell, but all he could do was wait. 

Robb continued on, the crowd standing in settled silence. Yet, it wasn’t. There was something…

There was someone...

“Something’s wrong,” he whispered to himself. Sam at his side scoffed.

“What are you talking about?” 

“I don’t know, I just…” he started, until he saw the gaze of a man in the crowd. It was determined, angry. And he was charging the stage. “Your Highness!” Gendry shouted, getting to the prince’s side, and the gun came out. 

“Down with the seven kingdoms!” The man yelled. Three pops went off quickly. And the crowd scattered, screams erupting as people scrambled for safety. Gendry saw Beric tackle the guy to the ground. 

Gendry had pushed the prince to the side. The prince fell into Jon’s grasp as Gendry was knocked to the ground. The sound had come and gone by the time Gendry hit the floor. Everything came far slower than he realised - his mind and body acting in two different timelines. Either a second apart or a million years, he wasn’t sure. 

It felt like he was punched in the chest, and then the overwhelming need to fall down. When his body started to go, he knew where the bullet had landed. He wasn’t sure the exact location, but it was painful enough to say an approximate; his chest. As he made impact with the ground, he felt the world rush. He wanted to breathe, but that proved to be a challenge. Right. Chest. That’s why. 

He felt up his chest as he stared up at the sky, all he could think about was putting pressure on the pain. Being met with the wet stain on his chest, he knew he would go into shock in a moment. 

“Arry,” he said, before he coughed, something wet touching his lips. 

His hands were a pathetic amount of pressure he was applying, until he felt the pain radiate through his chest. His hands were moved aside, as everything in his vision started to shift, not quite able to focus where he wanted. Then, he was met with Brienne’s face, concern written into her where he could focus on her face. He watched the head of security look him over, hands pushing into the wound on his body, but even that started to feel numb. 

“Gendry? Gendry, can you hear me?” He wanted to answer, but it felt like something was weighing down his chest. He knew what a gunshot felt like - he had enough to know what it felt like - what he wasn’t used to was feeling his lungs fill with blood. He couldn’t breathe, choking on the thing that gave him a pulse. 

Even with people above him, searching for a sign of life, and his eyes darting between them, all he could think about was Arya. 

Arya, in the morning light with white sheets surrounding her, making her look like a gift from the gods. Her hair sat at her shoulder, albeit a big messy, but he wouldn’t have her any other way. She smiled, and it welcomed him, like home. 

Yet, every time he saw Arya, he had hope. He believed there was a chance for his heart to mend what had been broken so easily in the past. He had snapped them in half, but the pieces were still scattered around them. 

With a torn heart, he got to work every day, wondering if he’d leave in hope or heartache. Most days, it was the combination of the two, fighting against one another to win over his heart. And more importantly, his liver, drinking alcohol like it were air, because what else did he have to look forward to at the end of the day. He never went to work drunk, it would be too risky, and although it hurt to be around her without the same emotions as they once had, it was better to be sober than drunk off his ass. 

In the meantime, Gendry was being the best bodyguard he could - he made sure that Arya was secure in all locations, and made sure she wasn’t putting herself at risk. She’d get annoyed once in a while, but let it slide fairly quickly.

It was strange though, just like her promise, Sansa and Gendry spoke when they could. It was being discussed that Gendry and Sandor would swap roles for a short while, with trial days to occur in order to see if it was a better image in the public eye. Both Arya and Sansa stayed indoors for these days. Gendry wasn’t entirely sure if it were planned, but he was thankful, because all the time he got to spend with Sansa, the more they got on and talked.

She was a very kind, warm and welcoming sort of person, willing to hear multiple sides instead of just the one. And yes, she was still as bitter as her sister on the whole break up thing, but he didn’t blame her. It was cruel what he did and how he did it. 

Gendry also found out two very simple things - the first was that Gendry had indeed won the bet with Arya, because Sansa’s boyfriend wasn’t who she thought, and the second was that Sansa wanted Arya and Gendry back together. 

Her father, it turned out, was a chatter box and talked to Sansa about them, about what they talked about that night. Sansa was criminally underestimated by her family, in Gendry’s opinion, because the amount of information that flowed through her was something to be rivaled by foreign countries with intelligence agencies. It wouldn’t surprise him if Sansa knew more about the secret workings of the Northern forces than she let on. As she sipped her tea, the twinkle in her eye told Gendry all he needed to know; Sansa was a woman to fear. 

“So, I know a fair amount about my sister, so I can tell you, all attempts to get her back are going to be difficult to accomplish.” Sansa picked at a plate of food that had been essentially demolished from their time sitting in her room. Gendry had seen Arya eat before - which was sickening to say the least, but when Sansa did it, it was down right frightening how fucking skinny she was. It was as though she inhaled an entire meal, probably passing through her just the same. Gendry felt like he needed to go to the gym just watching the meal disappear into her stomach. 

“I really don’t understand why you’re helping me,” he said, picking up his coffee and taking a sip. Sansa shrugged loosely before reclining back into her chair and playing with the ends of her hair. 

“Because when she talked about you, she was in love. The kind of love I see in my older brothers. I want the same thing for her, and we’ve all had it tough, so it’s only fair that you work it out,” she said, a soft sigh in her words as though it warmed her to speak of it. Then, she pouted. “Plus, I need Sandor back on my detail,” she said, and Gendry smirked. 

“Ominous, but I rarely question anything to do with him anymore because he scares the shit out of me,” Gendry admitted, to which Sansa beamed back a smile. 

“He also scares the shit out of everyone else. So, it works in my favour that he is the softest around me,” she confined with a grin that told him enough - a soft gian for only her was a special thing to keep around a princess that wanted secrets to be hidden. 

“Well aren’t you lucky,” Gendry chuckled. 

“Luckier than you,” Sansa scoffed, leaning forward, “you really fucked up. I don’t know how you’re going to get through this.”

Gendry put his coffee down before throwing himself back into his chair, sliding down as he felt a surge of self pity. “I know. But I can’t very well just ask her to get back together with me. Pathetic, especially considering that it won’t build trust back,” he explained, running his hands over his face. “I don’t know if I should even try.” He thought he whispered it, kept it so secret that no one would hear. But of course, Sansa, queen of secrets, threw a pillow at his words. 

“You can’t just give up,” she snapped, the pillow hitting him again. 

“Sansa, it’s better than dragging this out and hurting us more in the long run.” 

“You’re going to let her go because you’re scared she’ll reject you!” Sansa had some truth in her words. 

A lot of things about his relationship with Arya scared him. How did she love him in spite of everything she knew? How could someone royal love him? What if someone were to discover who he was, use it to bring him to a position he never asked for. Gendry wasn’t special. Maybe being a bastard made him feel like he wasn’t, but it still made him wonder at every turn if he were good enough to keep around. 

For what he knew of himself, he knew why he was feeling all of this all so suddenly; he broke them up - a fond respect that had been built was shattered, and however perfect it was in their little bubble, it wasn’t enough to keep the world from coming in. Losing security in such a split second, a security that was built entirely by heart, was a hard thing to recover. 

“I’m not going to break her heart all over again because I want her back! I could never do that to her again.” 

“Gendry, you have to try before you break it all forever,” Sansa tried, but Gendry’s heart had already wavered, how was he meant to stop it from beating the way it did. More than anything, he wanted to stay with Arya - but what was truly fair? To badger her into loving him again, or to drag out a break up that should have ended it weeks before hand. 

“What else can I do? Tell me! I’d die for that girl a thousand times over to see if it’d work, but that isn’t how this is going to happen,” he groaned. 

“I don’t know. You really screwed up,” Sansa said, chewing on her lip. 

“Yeah. I know that too,” Gendry grumbled, leaning forward, head in hands. For a moment, he thought he was alone, until a hand snaked up his shoulder, patting him lightly. 

“She will always love you, even if you think you will always be unlovable. I believe you’ll find your way back to safety soon.”

“Safety?” he questioned. 

“Where do you feel safest?” 

Gendry pictured it, the hand on his cheek as Arya smiled up at him. Home. Her arms. 

“There.” She confirmed with a smile and a nod, and Gendry’s heart broke again. 

He wouldn’t love anyone the way he loved Arya. 

As another week went by, Gendry’s place in the palace still hanging in the air, Arya was called in by her mother. She had staggered out of her room, hair still sticking up in odd places as she yawned. Gendry gave her the coffee he got her every morning, walking beside her slowly, guiding her around her home. The walk Arya took was uncomfortable, as though she had only just learnt how to walk that morning.

“Are you hung over right now?” he asked, staring straight ahead. When Arya groaned, she leaned on him, head kept propped up on his shoulder, legs lazily dragging her along with him. 

“Sansa wanted to watch the new season RuPaul, and...well,” she sighed, looking up at him. 

“I’m almost glad I didn’t get saddled with the night shift,” Gendry chuckled. To that, Arya jabbed him in the ribs. 

“Stop lying, you would have loved every second,” she scoffed. 

“You’re going to be two episodes ahead of me, don’t need spoilers.” To that, Arya laughed. She hadn’t laughed a lot since they’d broken up. He liked making her laugh, in his own way. It made him feel wanted by her. That there was still a chance. 

He wished, though, that his stomach wouldn’t turn when he felt that. Guilt, it seemed, still plagued him like a disease, breaking down the confident parts of him, the ones that didn’t care about rank or the future, just happiness in one moment to the next. 

Getting rid of the last remaining parts of her coffee, Arya gave Gendry back the mug and they walked into the Queen’s office. It was a very lavish office, with books lining the walls, a parallel war between the Queen’s interests on one side, and the other was duty. They were overflowing, each side balanced with the other. It fit the Queen, Gendry assumed. Unlike most of the Stark family, the Queen was quite secretive, she kept herself the picture perfect royal; stern, regal, and superior to all except the gods - old and new. 

“Arya,” the Queen started, the door opening behind them as the King walked in. Both parents kissed at Arya’s crown before they eventually took their seats. Gendry stayed near the door, watching Arya shift awkwardly in front of her parents, both sitting opposite her behind the desk. They kept their power, outnumbering her. The Queen suddenly looked up to him, and Gendry stiffened. “I’m sorry Gendry that you have to be here for this, but I do need to speak with Arya on an important matter,” she explained. Gendry’s frowned, watching the Queen. The words made him curious. 

“It is alright, Your Majesty, I’m used to following her around,” he explained.

The Queen cleared her throat, looking away from him, as though she of all people were uncomfortable. “Ah, see, it’s more about the topic of conversation.” 

“What’s this about?” Arya asked. 

“We’re setting you up on blind dates,” The King blurted, and Gendry suspected if Arya was drinking, she would have spat it across the room. 

“Ex-excuse me?” she stuttered, her hands gripping into the edge of the chair. Gendry felt his heart clench. There was a reason this was awkward. At least Gendry knew the Queen had a heart - or at least she expressed human emotions that range into uncomfortable, awkward situations. 

“To ease the transition period of you two...near each other again, we’re pursuing some dates that you can go on to steer the conversation away from you all together, Gendry,” she said, looking up to Gendry. His hands behind his back, clutched tight to one another, holding himself 

“That…” he stopped himself as he shifted his weight between the balls of his feet, “that uh, sounds reasonable, your Majesty,” he gave a nod.

“Mum, this isn’t exactly fair to either me or Gendry,” Arya scoffed. 

Gendry cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the room to him. “You Highness, your Majesty, please disregard my feelings on this matter. Whatever will be best for the royal family, I am on board with.” To that, Arya looked like she wanted to punch him - or gut him. 

“See, Arya.” The Queen smiled, though it faded when she looked at him - a wave of guilt washing over her. Gendry swallowed. “We’ll arrange the dates, as well as some public outings to give you a chance to get to know some of these Lords and Ladies,” she explained. 

Arya jolted forward. “Wow, wait, I’m being set up with Ladies? Mum, you know how I feel about noblewomen, they’re always so -” 

“One is Elia Sand,” the King interrupted, and raised his brow. 

“Okay, yeah that’s fine,” Arya muttered, settling back in her chair, folding her arms, “and the other one?” 

“Myrcella,” The Queen said next, and Arya groaned. 

“Baratheon?! Are you kidding me?!” she exclaimed. Gendry stood to the side, awkwardly trying to go unnoticed. He wanted to be like a fly on the wall, as he was always trained to do. But in that moment, he felt like he was sticking out like a ugliest statue that ever graced the halls of such a place. 

The Queen leaned forward, her hands coming together as she spoke. “She’s shown great interest in -” 

“Nope! She hates my guts, ever since I threw mud in her face when we were five,” Arya argued, reclining back into her chair, pulling away as far as she could from her mother and her demands. But, the scowl that Catelyn Stark wore better than anyone, said otherwise. 

“It’s not up for discussion. You don’t have to actually date her, just one outing and we’ll call it from there,” she said, and with one wave, that was the end. Arya trudged off, and Gendry had to follow. 

Outside the door, Arya groaned, hands in her hair like she wanted to the pull at her scalp. She continued to groan as she stumbled to the kitchen. There, she made herself a coffee and sat at one of the kitchen counters. Gendry sat opposite her, like he used to. It wasn’t until he was seated that he realised he probably shouldn’t have. But Arya didn’t seem to notice, or at least she didn’t care. 

After Arya had downed her newest cup of coffee, making herself a second and her third of the morning, Gendry got the courage he needed and spoke. 

“You complained about Myrcella, but from what I remember at Robb’s wedding, she was definitely staring at you,”  he mentioned. Before Arya could raise the mug to her lips, she stopped and glared at him.

“Shut up,” she said, drinking her newest cup, and tearing herself away, as though a thought came to her and she couldn’t wait to yell about her frustrations. “I have nothing in common with her. Only thing we’d actually find fun together is probably sex,” she explained, going back and drinking as much as her coffee as she could with an irritated look on her face.

“Please don’t say that anyone else,” Gendry said, scratching the back of his neck.

“Okay, but don’t think about it in your spare time,” Arya teased. 

“Trust me, I won’t,” he laughed. 

“Well, trust isn’t a word I’d associate with you anymore,” she smirked to herself before her expression fell, “sorry. Cheap shot.” 

“It’s fine,” he lied. It hurt to hear her say it. He knew she would have done so before the break up, but it was like a rusted knife went into his gut, tearing at his insides as she drew it out. It wasn’t fair to feel guilty, but in the end, heartache was always a blade that wounded more than just the intended person.

It took a week for the two royal women to meet. Gendry was there around their reintroduction to each other. Myrcella gave a sweet smile and giggled at Arya’s jokes, and that was all he saw. From their meeting in the palace, Gendry and Sandor swapped their roles. 

To pass the time, Sansa kept Gendry off the internet - she made him go around the whole palace twice to try and find her phone, which happened to be in her pocket the whole time. Then, she made him feel extremely uncomfortable by making him sit next to her on her bed. She was lounging around and he sat straight legged on her bed as she talked. 

After about half an hour of this, waiting for her to tell him to move - as she requested him to stay put - she suddenly kicked at his thigh. He frowned as she sat up, looking at him at the foot of the bed. 

“I will bet you twenty quid that Arya is being forced to go shopping right now,” she smirked, teasing her sister that wasn’t even there. 

“You’re saying that like you don’t wish you were her right now,” Gendry scoffed. Sansa narrowed her eyes at him, clicking her tongue against her teeth. 

“I feel as though it’s some kind of jab about me being hyper feminine compared to my sister, but you’re right,” she said, as though she wasn’t anticipating being read like she just was. 

There was a silence that hovered around them, even as Sansa smiled and went back to her phone - Gendry knew there was more that he didn’t know, that he very well could have. Sansa wasn’t much different than Arya; always willing to be a friend if given the chance. “What would you get?” he asked. 

Sansa looked up at him, frowning at him. “Shopping?” 

“Sure,” he shrugged. 

“Are you just making small talk or do you actually want to know?” she asked, a cautious look on her brow. 

“You seem fairly interesting, I want to get to know you, Sansa,” he said, honesty in his words. 

Sansa’s eyes went wide. “Fairy interesting?” Gendry shrugged again. 

“Look, I’m in love with your sister, she kind of sets a bar,” he smiled and Sansa laughed. 

“Fair,” she shrugged back, “have you seen those ridiculous denim high heels?” she asked, not even able to keep a straight face. Gendru stared in shock before the words slipped out of his mouth.  

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he howled out a laugh, holding tight to his stomach as every laugh ripped into his side, unable to hold it in. Sansa laughed hard too, kicking at his thigh again as she tried to explain. It took them a few minutes to regain their breaths to finally get the explanation. 

“I want to wear them just once to scare the shit out of Arya. it’s why I buy half the shit I wear. Just to see that girl’s reaction to horrible fashion,” she explained, falling back into her bed, giggling as she thought on it longer. Gendry scoffed out a laugh before nudging Sansa’s leg. 

“You two love torturing each other,” he said, to that, she nodded. 

“It’s what sisters do.” Sansa chuckled. 

From what Gendry and Sansa found out later, that Gendry did in fact owe Sansa twenty quid, as shopping was all over the news, and it was definitely clear that Myrcella had a thing for Arya. Even if it was brief or some kind of want of flirtation, from all the photos that were out, it seemed that Myrcella seemed keen on Arya in her own way. 

Gendry didn’t ask how far it went. He didn’t want to know. 

Another outing was planned, a date over dinner that went as fine as the first - from the gossip that Arya gave after the fact, she and Myrcella talked about their families before they were stuck back into silence. They shared a long embrace at the end of the night which got picked up by every tabloid on the planet, and that was that. Myrcella still texted Arya, asking how she was doing but they had both agreed they were better off shit talking Joffrey than they were at ever being a couple. 

After that, it was on to the next. Again, another night in with Sansa with Sandor taking his place. And as always, he was left to know the next day what happened the day or night before. He had seen the small talks of it online, the Forge their place to meet, some sort of dancing that had people gasping. 

Elia Sand was a lady of the court, not of royal blood, but was known as a noble rebel. She and Arya had many similar qualities, both a little reckless but did so for their own freedom. It was worth commending. 

The next day, with Arya in a hungover state once more, Gendry walked behind her to the kitchen. When her phone buzzed, Gendry had no intention to look over her shoulder, though it was quite easy to do so. What he found was Arya looking at a text that Elia sent, of the two women in the bathroom at the Forge, pressed in a stall and their tongues down the other’s throat.

“I see things with Elia Sand went well,” Gendry scoffed over her shoulder. Arya jumped, scrolling through her phone as quickly as she could. Across her cheeks a pinkish hue brightened her face, and panic was clear as day in her body. 

“Yeah, I didn’t expect that to get seen,” she laughed, shoving her phone in her pocket. Gendry stopped. He had embarrassed her? Fuck. He never wanted to do that. “I’m sorry about that,” she tried. Gendry shook his head, hands bound tight behind his back. 

“Don’t be. It’s not my place,” he said, clearing his throat, the lump of guilt mixing with shame didn’t make any of this less uncomfortable. From her spot, she straightened out her shoulders before walking back towards him, a sway in her hips that was her old way of flirting with him. Gendry’s mouth went dry at just the action. She shouldn’t have been allowed to do that. 

“So, what are you going to do to match up to this?” she teased. With a hammering of his heart in his chest, he felt like he wanted to collapse. It felt unfair, as though he were finally taken down to the lowest he could - that she would break him down to the man he was supposed to be a year or so ago; to have him uncomfortable from the advances of a royal princess and ignore them. It could have been malice with her words, to tease and pull back at the last second, but as he looked at her, eyes eager for the reply she wanted - an example of how he’d win her over again, he sighed and felt his self pity wash away for a moment. 

“I don’t think many would be able to match up to a kiss like that,” he scoffed. 

Arya stepped to his side, to walk beside him again, slow and wanting to waste the time that way. “But?” They wandered the halls, no longer needing the coffee that would keep Arya awake. 

“Maybe, after these public dates are over with, you and I can go out boxing? Like we used to?” he asked, chewing on the inside of his lip. He knew Arya wasn’t mean or cruel, but all his heart screamed was that he was going to be let down like he had done to her. 

“I’d like that,” she replied, and for a second, he felt every hair on his body stand on end to see that smile, “we can go tomorrow, you know? It’s not like anyone would see it as out of the ordinary, it’s what we used to do,” she suggested, looking up at him with cautious optimism. 

“If you’re happy with that, then I’m ok with it,” he nodded. To that, Arya smiled, racing ahead a few feet before stopping near a potted plant to throw up in. Gendry stood beside her, holding back her hair and patting her back as she hunched over the pot. 

When she left, and out of earshot, Gendry called housekeeping personnel, and told them someone threw up in a potplant. He never gave a name and saved Arya some embarrassment. He did, however, tell Sansa about it, purely so he could talk to her about it in the coming days. 

Arya spoke about her night in the briefest terms. The two women didn’t want anything other than to have a little fun. They danced, they drank, they made out in a bathroom stall. That was it. Gendry tried to hold back a smile as she told him, but she noticed and smiled back. 

The next day came, both going out bright and early to the gym where barely anyone came. Arya was excited to work out with Gendry again, he knew that because she told him after every machine or the reps they needed to get. Finally getting back to the hand to hand stuff, Arya threw Gendry to the ground enough that it made his back ache. It took him a few tries to do it, but he managed to get Arya on her back, pinning her there before she eventually tapped out. 

Genrdy still had little word on who first trained Arya, but whoever did so made Arya one hell of a fighter to begin with. She was focused, knowing how to get out of basically every hold that he could think of, and was a master manipulator of her body, moving in such a fashion that blew his mind every time she squeezed herself out of a situation. 

Being thrown to the ground at around eight in the morning, Gendry wanted to call it a day, but before he could, he heard Arya squeak above him. Getting up onto his elbows quickly, he watched Arya bound towards a boy around Arya’s age. He was chubby around the edges, but in no way overweight, just a little cushion to him. Arya didn’t care about how sweaty she was when she jumped into his waiting arms. 

“Mycah!” she yelled, giggling as his face went into the crook of her neck and holding onto her for dear life. Gendry’s chest clenched tight, no longer feeling a beating heart. “Oh my gods! What’s it been?” she asked as he set her back on her feet. 

“Like ten years,” he replied, holding her face in is hands, “it’s so good to see you,” he laughed. 

“What are you doing here?” she asked, smoothing her hair out on the edges, flicking it back into the sweat that lined her face. 

“Didn’t your mum tell you?” he asked. 

Arya stepped back from him. “You’re my date?!”

“Sure am!” he beamed. Gendry knew what it was now. Mycah Butcher. He wasn’t noble, but he was a childhood friend, his father once working in the kitchen before he eventually had to move. The two were fond companions, causing trouble when they shouldn’t, and overall, confiding in each other when no one else could see their reasoning. 

Gendry wasn’t expecting him that day. He didn’t plan for this gym session to be their only interaction - to make it only about the gym instead of their normal routine of working out and talking it out. It was easy for them to exhaust themselves so when truths flew into the air, they were guaranteed not to run off easily. Gendry stood, rolling his shoulders as he walked over to his gear. 

“Seven hells! You’ve made my day!” Arya beamed back at him. Packing things up, Gendry hitched up his bag onto his shoulder, taking out a cap and putting it on. He was more used to hiding his face in public than he ever had been in the past. It was odd how easy it had become to blend in when he wanted to. 

“Your highness,” Gendry said, making Arya turn back to him. “I think we can meet up later. You have Beric with you,” Gendry said pointing out the window to Beric standing by the car. 

“Oh, thank you,” she said, waving Gendry off, “I can’t believe it’s you!” she said again to Mycah.

Out the door, Gendry looked to Beric, stepping over to him as he looked back into the gym, Arya seemingly overexcited by the person in front of her. Gendry liked being that person for her. It was a lost cause now, her attention constantly distracted - giving her the opportunity to know that she could move on, and easily. Gendry knew he couldn’t. 

“You good to look after her?” he asked. 

“Where are you going?” Beric grumbled. 

“To drink away the self pity I have over seeing that,” he said, pointing back inside, ready to go to the one place he felt the safest. 

“Hey, Waters, come here,” Beric called out. Walking back to him, Beric held onto Gendry’s shoulder, holding him in place. “I gave you a hard time the other week, and I’m sorry, it’s just -” 

Gendry interrupted. “Bodyguard 101. Don’t get attached.” 

“Is it hard with her doing this?” Beric asked, and Gendry gave out a sigh. Looking back at Beric, a man that didn’t really care about Gendry’s troubles, he found it easy to speak what he needed. 

“More than I’m letting on.” He admitted it without hesitating, and the look that Beric gave was that of pity. He let Gendry go with a tough slap to the shoulder. “Thanks,” Gendry replied, moving off and finding the same old pub he used to work at when he was a boy. Sweeping up after dark, cleaning tables in the morning when the night crowd didn’t disperse until dawn. 

The Stag’s Head. 

Opening the doors, closed to the public, Gendry walked up the bar, seeing the place almost spotless. It felt wrong, that there wasn’t something to do in order to get it ready for a lunch rush - which used to be the staple of their establishment. Now, it felt barren and unwanted. 

“Mum?” he called, putting his bag on the counter. He wondered if he could sneak a beer before his mum noticed. She would with the speed she rushed out the back doors to him. 

“Gendry! Sweetie,” she smiled, pulling him into her arms and pushing him onto a stool. From the determination in her, she was ready to make him food that he would say is his breakfast. 

“Hey,” he asked as she roamed around the bar area, “how’s everything?” 

“Business is picking up again since the princess has been dating,” she admitted, and Gendry sighed, pushing his hat off his head and putting it on the bar. “I’m sorry you see that,” his mother said, moving back to his space at the opposite side of the bar. 

“More than I’d like,” he sighed, resting his chin on the bar top. It smelled foul up close, but it had the same smell as it had for the last twenty years. 

“I didn’t -” his mother started before she lifted Gendry’s head from the bartop, “honey, I never wanted you to end things with her. I love Arya,” she beamed before she seemed to recognise her mistake, “Princess Arya,” she corrected. At least she corrected herself - Gendry failed to do that since he’d met her. 

“Mum,” he replied, closing his eyes and hoping he could make it through this conversation without feeling as depressed as he had all morning. “I know you didn’t ask me to, but I needed to do that. It was best,” he said, looking back at her. Tilting her head, Tailya sighed, hands firm on the bar as she scowled back at him. 

“Best for who?” she asked. Before he could give her an answer, one that he hadn’t thought of, he got a text. Reaching into his pocket, he saw the palace asking him back. 

“I just got a call, I have to go,” he sighed, leaning over the bar and kissing his mother’s cheek. Gathering up his things, he left the pub, ignoring the fact that he could have caught a lift with the rest of the team. Instead, he opted to walk back to the palace. It took him half the morning, but he got back, showering in the security quarters, and dressing in his suit. 

He had to wander around the palace before Arya made it back in the afternoon, still as happy as when he left her. Still, she went off to her room, her mother going inside to talk with her about the date, to which they took a fair while. As Gendry waited, his new friend bounded towards him, mockingly punching him in the stomach as she perked up. 

“How you doing? Did it go well?” 

“Which part? The gym part or where Mycah came to date Arya?” he asked back in a whisper. To that, Sansa’s face dropped. 

“Mycah Butcher? You’re kidding?” she exclaimed. 

“Nope. Seems like that’s who she was with all day,” he replied, and Sansa sighed.

“I’m sorry. Next time,” she said, patting his shoulder before skipping down the hall. 

After a few more minutes, the Queen came out of Arya’s room, smiling to herself. When she saw Gendry, she jumped, clearing her throat and handing him a pile of notes. 

“I expect this is greatly awkward for you,” she said, avoiding his eyes. 

“I don’t see how my feelings need to mean anything to your family anymore, your majesty,” Gendry said, focusing back across the hall, avoiding the gaze that the queen held on him. What shocked him however, was the hand that she placed on his elbow, making his attention fall back on the queen. 

“My boy, please don’t think you are lesser than we are because you are not royal or noble born. You have every right to rule over your own happiness,” she said, and Gendry felt himself stare in disbelief. The queen had never been the type to talk to him like that - like he were family, or someone worth caring for, “please read over these notes. I am sorry in advance,” she remarked, nodding before heading down the hall. 

Gendry looked over the notes as he knocked on Arya’s door. She called for him to come in, and as he opened the door, he stopped midday, stuck on a line that was written in. 

“I see you scheduled another outing with Mycah in two nights time,” Gendry said, putting his notes behind his back, walking in to see Arya’s room scattered with clothes, as though she were trying to find the right outfit for whatever she was planning on doing. 

“It’s just drinks. We decided we wanted to catch up,” Arya shrugged, going into her bathroom, but her smile made everything feel like what he did to get back to Arya was a hopeless endeavour. Did he really have to try anymore, or would it be a wasted effort to give himself to her all over again? Would she even want to after all these dates? 

He hated that he would now compare himself to others. He never used to. Arya would yell at him for doing it, he predicted. 

After Arya showered, she dressed in some lounging clothes and mainly stayed in her room. Sansa came for a visit at one stage, laughing at her for her vomit incident the other day. Arya threw a pillow at Gendry who laughed at the sisters. Sansa even said there was a stain on the carpet where the potplant couldn’t catch everything - Gendry knew it was a lie because he had checked. Arya didn’t, and buried her face into her bed. 

After Sansa left, turning her face away as though she were ignoring him - but he saw her smug grin - it was Arya and Gendry once more, their presence around each other left them in tension and silence. The silence seemed to fuel the tension, but neither broke it, in fear of starting a fire that neither of them could

“I think I should head out. Promise not to jump out the window?” Gendry laughed, his finger tugging down on the knot in his tie, turning to leave as Arya seemed to settle into her room. From behind him, he could hear her jostling around on her sheets. 

“Can I ask you something?” Arya said, and Gendry finished tugging off his tie. He let the loose fabric rest on his shoulders and stuck his hands in his pockets, turning back to her. Arya had stood at the end of her bed, and Gendry walked back to her. 

“Always,” he said, meaning it too. 

Arya rested her chin on her chest for a moment, fingers binding in to the edge of her jumper sleeve. Then, she looked up to him, eyes scared to know an answer that hadn’t even been questioned. “Have you stopped fighting for me because I’m not...opening up? That I’m making it too hard?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Am I hard to love? Is that why you’re pulling away and not giving us a ch-” 

“Arya, I told you,” he started, before the words got caught up in his chest. Could he even bring himself to lie. “Your happiness means more to me than anything else. I’m never going to get in the way of that again.” 

“What if -” 

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Gendry stepped into her space, his hand on her cheek. He thought she’d recoil, that she’d pull away, instead, she relaxed into his touch, her eyes closing for a brief moment as though to savour this time. When she opened her eyes, Gendry felt himself lean down, words only they could hear, “you deserve...you deserve someone that isn’t going to break your heart.” 

Arya gripped into his collar, his forehead resting against hers. “I don’t want anyone else,” she confessed, and that was when Gendry pulled away. It was slow, and scorching to do so. 

“I don’t want to let you go, but -” 

“Don’t finish that sentence,” she repeated. “Just..leave it as it is. Please don’t give up hope.” 

“I promise,” he said, not knowing if he would keep his words true, or if he had confessed a lie. All he knew was that when she held him, all he wanted to do was kiss her and ask her for forgiveness in every way he could, submit to her every whim just to see if she’d love him again. He would go down on his knees and beg, but would it ever mean anything to her? Gendry was unsure of anything these days, it would be foolish to even try. 

After that, Arya went out for drinks with Mycah, more photos and more articles revolving around Arya’s love life were in the papers. People speculator as to the real reason for the cycling dates, most were wrong, some were right, others were downright weird reasons. 

Then, one night came, an unexpected date came to town and wanted something for he and Arya that would give them a chance out of the spotlight. It was the first real effort that Arya had at a date thus far. Everything was very casual with the others - this was a lord trying to impress a princess. 

Arya wore a simple jumpsuit, a silk material bound in at her waist with a bright red belt. She looked stunning, but Gendry didn’t say anything. He just smiled and they drove to the restaurant that was arranged. They were told to wait outside. Gendry didn’t know much of the procedures for these sort of things - he was only on duty that night because Sandor had gone off with Sansa doing something that no one knew about. It drove Gendry mad, knowing he had to be apart of this in some way. 

“It’s the last one. It’ll be over before we know it,” Arya sighed, shifting back and forth between her heels. Gendry cleared his throat, shoulders deflating at the words. He always forgot this wasn’t going to go away, that they would be able to build themselves overtime - they would constantly be torn apart. Then, a hand smacked against his stomach, making him looking down at Arya who scowled at him, “you promised, remember?” 

“I know,” he replied, feigning a smile. He was probably as good to lying to Arya as she were to him. They were each other’s lie detector, finding the truth hidden behind layers of lies and pain. Part of him knew, that even with his promise, reality wouldn’t match up. He could promise her everything she’d ever wished for, but at the end of it all, he’d still be ushered away. Gendry was going to be pulled from her life without a second word. 

Gendry wanted to cling on, but after seeing how Arya was when he broke it off, he wondered if it wasn’t for the best - to never be in the woman’s life again, never be able to hurt her. It was hard for him to think of himself highly, even after understanding the royal family were like any other - something stood in the way of his happiness. 

In the back of his mind, he thought of someone who he had never met. Someone that had impacted his life without stepping foot in it. 

Maybe he was why. 

Arya sighed, her finger gracing over his hand. He unconsciously flinched, looking around for prying eyes. It was funny how things worked now; when he dated Arya, he didn’t care who saw, not that they were broken up, all he cared about was her appearance with him. “I do want to start over, but it’s hard to -” 

“Your highness, the car is pulling up,” Gendry said, putting his hands behind his back and stepping away from her. It felt like the right thing to do - the step away from her when matters like this were at hand. 

As the car rolled up, a young man walked out, pinned in a casual suit jacket and jeans combo, blond hair slightly astray, and he waved off the escorting security that tried to stop him running to Arya and Gendry. “I’m sorry I’m late!” he called just before he reached the two. Gendry looked to Arya - she showed no real interest in him, but she still smiled, like she had to out of obligation. 

Then he got closer, and Arya sucked in a breath. He reached out to her as he stopped in front of her. 

“Ned Dayne,” he introduced, his hand delicate to touch hers. When their hands came together, soft and tender, holding tight for a moment, a breath taken in between them both, before they finally let each other go, and they could breathe in sync. It made Gendry feel like he was invading on something he shouldn’t have been apart of in the first place.

“It’s great to meet you,” she smiled, her lip going between her teeth briefly and a soft chuckle slipped from her lips as she looked down at her heels. Gendry felt his mouth go dry and his hands clung to one another behind his back. He felt like he wanted to drag himself out of their the second the pair latched eyes. It wasn’t right for him to think like that though, he had no right to do that anymore. 

“Come in,” he asked her. Gendry followed after her as she went inside behind Ned. From the little Gendry had been debriefed about the Lord was this; he was kind, though he didn’t outwardly show any sort of distain for anyone, in recent past, he kept to himself as he studied english at university where he thrived. Everything else seemed like a mystery - he stayed inside, he kept to himself mostly, but was reclusive. Gendry suspected he was like Arya; the person in the family that seemed the most mysterious, but just wanted more for themselves out of their family name. 

In the restaurant, the staff waited patiently, bowing as Arya walked in before moving onto their next task. Arya held herself tighter, as though she felt claustrophobic of the open space. In her defense, it made Gendry’s skin crawl - too much open space meant more opportunity to get into contact with her. He had doubts those were her fears.

“Where is everyone?” she asked.

“I rented out the restaurant. I wanted to get to know you, and not have people listening in,” he said, a genuine and sweet looking smile appeared on his lips. 

“I’d like that,” Arya sighed, letting her arms loose. Gendry cleared his throat, drawing attention to him from the two. 

“Your Highness,” Gendry gave a nod to Arya before turning to Ned, “My Lord.” His goodbye without saying it. Why would he need to. It wasn’t his right. He found himself thinking that a lot. 

A right. A privilege. Something that was given to him but not freely taken. He had no right to be around Arya, but was given the opportunity. His only crime was loving her when no one gave him the right to. 

Arya stepped into him. “Where are you -” 

“I’ll be just outside. So you can have some more privacy, your highness,” Gendry said, and for a moment, he thought he saw doubt in her. As though she saw herself and what mistakes she may make - that in the presence of the man beside her, she’d find a happiness that once lay in Gendry. 

“Thank you,” she said, a sadness to her words that he wished would fade. In time, at least. 

“Yes, thank you,” Ned said, extending his hand. Gendry looked down and without thinking, took it. It was a kindness that he showed overall, Gendry didn’t want to give him a bad impression - especially if it meant something more for Arya. “I didn’t catch your name,” he asked, shaking Gendry’s hand. Nervous, Gendry cleared his throat, straightening out his shoulders.

“Gendry.” 

“Ah yes, I remember now. Gendry Waters,” he recalled as if he had known it from a distant memory. From the corner of his eye, he caught Arya looking at Gendry, as they both knew where he knew the name. “A pleasure,” he said, innocent as ever. 

“You too, my lord,” Gendry said, clearing his throat and leaving the pair. As Gendry got to the door, he stopped and look back. To see what was happening in his absence. Ned put his hand on the small of Arya’s back as he took them to the table of his choice and smiled to her like he had been falling in love with her from such a distance, and within his sight - there she was. 

Gendry understood, being in Arya’s gravity made everything seem brighter, as though she hung the stars and they left a shine over her entire being. It was as though the heavens had touched down on her and graced the earth with the simplest thing as her smile. 

As the pair sat opposite each other, they looked perfect together, like they were paired from some greater being. The old gods and the new formed them to be one and they fit - like they were waiting to fall back into place. And there they were, and Gendry was just the man on the sidelines, watching for his heart to break more than it had before. 

Arya giggled, like she did with him only a few months prior. She tucked hair behind her ear, lip caught between teeth as she listened to him talk. Although the words were lost to him, Gendry could make out that it was something worth keeping her attention in the first place. 

Gendry lit the cigarette, setting it between his teeth, and dragging the smoke in with the air of the night. He hoped it killed him, that the smoke would fill his lungs and choke him because it would be less painful than the broken heart that captivated him at present. 

As the smoke left him, mixing in with the cold night air that only the North could hold, Gendry felt like he were ready to be sick. It was as though bile was rising in his throat, but he didn’t get to physically retch it from his body. Instead, he was left to rest his hand to his head, wrist shaking as the sickness turned into a choked sob. 

He hadn’t felt like he had truly lost Arya until that night, where she smiled and laughed, acted like herself again with someone that could replace him. Replace Gendry so easily, it were like he never existed in the first place. 

“Fuck,” he said, and finally, the tears came out, his hand slipping down from his forehead to rest over his eyes. Hunched against the wall of the building, he hid away his shame - and the pain of the final blow of a lost love. 

She was gone, and there was nothing more Gendry could do but cry, out of sight and out of mind of everyone that once cared who he was.